


How Can You Be So Sure?

by notaguitarfret



Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [40]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/F, Fluff, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Transphobia, more content warnings in notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28891554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret
Summary: The gang is back together, and with Heather Chandler being part of the group again, schemes immediately ensue.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Heather Duke, Heather Chandler/Heather Duke/Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Chandler/Heather McNamara, Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Duke/Heather McNamara, Heather Duke/Veronica Sawyer, Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer
Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [40]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053590
Comments: 23
Kudos: 137





	1. I'm Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNINGS: homophobia, vague transphobia, queerphobia

Heather opened her eyes to darkness, but not total blackness. She could tell it was early hours of the morning, perhaps 5am, with how the sky outside looked like a murky dark grey. She would have gladly fallen back asleep, feeling more comfortable than she had in several weeks, sandwiched between Veronica, who spooned her from behind, and Duke, who was curled up in front of her, but something was missing. She screwed her eyes shut before opening them again, repeating the action a few times to truly clear her vision, before lifting her head slightly, seeing the empty space behind Duke as well as Veronica.

Silently, she sat up, eyes still heavy, so she could look around the room. Over in the corner, she could see the shape of Mac, slumped on top of a bean bag with her legs tucked up and acting as a surface to rest what she assumed was a notebook, or perhaps a sketchbook. Carefully and quietly, she slipped out of both of her girlfriends’ grips, trying her best not to wake them, and shuffled along the bed until she could stand up. She immediately felt cold; falling asleep in Mac’s bad had been the most comfort she had felt in ages, because even though there was enough space for her and Duke in Duke’s bed, it had always felt awkward sleeping with somebody who you’re crushing on, and who  _ knows _ you’re crushing on them, and is also crushing on you back. Of course, that wouldn’t be an issue anymore, but it was also nice to not worry about Duke’s family walking in on them both and finding her.

After leaving the party early last night they had all returned to Mac’s house and had a big long chat in order to catch up, this time properly, without any tears. Heather had to share all the mishaps she had faced while she had been gone, as well as the romantic tension there had been between her and Duke, Veronica had shared more about their gender identity, and Mac had shared more about the whole school in general. She had picked up how much it had changed without her in the past week, but Mac had observed things that she had missed, and made her consider what she was going to do the following Monday. It would be weird having all four of them sit at the table again, even though familiar, because they had all seemed to have changed so much since last time.

Heather didn’t find herself worrying about it like she had been doing every other night, this time. Because everything was over now, they were all together -  _ all four of them _ were together - and it was wonderful. No matter what may happen next, she felt so much more ready to face it.

But also, the night gown she had stolen from one of the spare closets in Mac’s house was thin and failing miserably to block the draft from grazing her skin, and she was shivering. She scurried over to Mac, who finally looked up and flinched at the sight.

“You’re awake,” Mac said, blinking up at her.

“ _ You’re _ awake,” Heather threw back. Mac shuffled along the bean bag to give her room, and though she had to press herself up against her to fit on it without slipping, she didn’t mind at all. Mac was better than any hot water bottle right now. “What are you doing up so early?” She rested her chin on her shoulder and glanced down at the book on her lap. It  _ was _ a sketchbook, and under the light of the lamp lit behind them on the shelf, she could see she had been drawing rough sketches of random planets and other astrological things. She could recognise Jupiter and Saturn with ease, as well as black holes and galaxies. “Drawing space?”

“I woke up about an hour ago and couldn’t fall back asleep,” she said. “I thought drawing might tire me out.”

“Why couldn’t you sleep? That’s a me and Veronica thing,” she murmured into her neck, closing her eyes.

“I woke up some time ago. Couldn’t fall back asleep,” she said.

“Is the bed too cramped with all four of us?” Heather asked.

“I mean, sort of. My bed is a double bed at  _ most. _ I didn’t have much room, but I was cosy enough.”

“So why’d you move?”

She shrugged, her pencil continuing to move.

“Dunno.”

Heather frowned, lifting her head off of her shoulder.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“What?”

“You’re acting off.”

“I’m just tired.” She yawned on cue. “See? Tired. I’ll be going back to sleep soon.”

Heather said nothing, just stared her down until her facade collapsed. She sighed defeatedly.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were struggling at home?” she asked meekly. “I would have dropped any dumb argument to come and look after you.”

Heather’s brow furrowed.

“I didn’t want you to do that.”

“Heather, there’s nothing wrong with accepti-”

“It’s nothing to do with accepting help. It’s to do with me wanting the group conflict to resolve before jumping to the next piece of teen angst we’re dealing with.”

Mac frowned. “I care more about your well being than whatever we’re arguing about.”

“Well, thank you, but I had Heather and JD; I coped just fine. Well, mostly.” She glanced at her bandaged hand. “But it’s fine now. I’m not living with my family, everything worked out.”

“But what if you weren’t fine? I wouldn’t have known to help you.”

“I’m sure Heather would have told you if I really needed help.”

“But you did need help!” She turned to look at her with wide, glistening eyes. “Sorry… it’s just, we’re always so close, and it’s weird when we’re not. And I know it was my choice to side with Veronica, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t stop caring-”

“I know, Mac.” She rested her chin on her head to hush her. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

“Okay… good, I’m glad,” Mac murmured. “Thank you.” She dropped her sketchbook and pencil on the floor so her hands could find Heather’s. Her legs began to kick, heels hitting the bean bag in a rhythmic fashion. “So is it okay? Living with Heather?”

Heather grimaced. “It’s good to not be alone, and nice to not have to deal with them, but hiding in her house is becoming tiring.”

“Do you plan on moving back in with your parents?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I just know they’re going to be pissed at me and probably ground me for life. Going back there doesn’t sound ideal, but neither does living with Heather.”

“Hm.” Mac looked around her room thoughtfully. “We’ll sort that out.”

“We will?”

“Of course. Why don’t you just move in with me?”

Heather blinked. “Would you want that? Would your  _ dad _ want that?”

“As for me, of course, you practically lived with me as a kid, and now we’re dating. As for dad, well, I’d have to ask him, but I doubt he’d object. He’s used to you being around all the time, I think he’d be pretty indifferent to you moving in entirely.”

“Oh,” Heather murmured. “Well… that would be really handy, since I’d be able to get up and pee without listening out for footsteps.” She wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple. “Thanks. I’ll see when I can haul my shit over here. May be difficult to sneak it all back out of her house.”

“Well, Ronnie and I can help this time,” she said. “Sometime next week, then?”

“Sounds good.”

“Good.” Mac fell silent again, unusually so, while her hand began to drum her thigh repeatedly. Heather frowned.

“Is something up?”

“No, no, everything’s fine.”

“Hm.” She gazed at her doubtfully, long enough for Mac to give up and sigh.

“It’s just… well, speaking of dad, he’s been acting weird lately.”

“Weird how?”

“I… can’t tell? He’s just acting differently.”

“In a bad way?”

“I… don’t know? He’s still going out to drink a lot, but he seems a lot more… chippy about it? Like, he’s coming home earlier than usual, and when he does he actually says hello. I don’t know what it means.”

“Hm.” Heather shrugged. “Hey, maybe he finally found a woman he actually wants to meet up with again, you know, other than the one night sleeping together.”

Mac scoffed. “I don’t think that’ll ever happen. He never got over mom for reasons I’ll never understand.” She tucked her knees under her chin, hugging them close. “I think it’s more likely he just ran out of women he hadn’t slept with. It’s a small town we live in.”

“Maybe,” Heather huffed. “You probably don’t need to worry. He’s getting old, he’s probably realising that random women he finds in the bar isn’t going to fill in the hole that the divorce papers left. Maybe he actually found some friends to hang out with instead.”

“I hope that’s it,” Mac snickered. “Not sure if I could handle having a step-mother.”

“Not even if she was nice?”

“No, because it would be  _ weird, _ and I wouldn’t trust her in the slightest. How would I introduce myself? Hello, I’m Heather, and my autism drove my dad’s last wife away and he’s never been the same since. What about you? Where do you land on the ableist scale?”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Nothing you did drove her away. She was just a bitch.”

“But you can’t deny that if I was like everyone else, she would have stayed.”

Heather gritted her teeth in discomfort. “That’s not your fault.”

Mac shrugged. “I guess not.” Her tone was far too flat to be convinced. “But never mind that. I shouldn’t keep you up! Or me up - we were going to make everyone breakfast.”

“Yeah, we were.” Heather forced herself back onto her feet, holding out a hand to Mac to pull her up with her. She led her back to the bed, where Veronica and Duke had made up for the newfound space on the mattress by shuffling closer until there was no gap between them, most likely done subconsciously. “Quit your overthinking, or you’ll fall asleep on the fryer, and I can’t deal with anymore trauma like that.”

“You? What about  _ me? _ I’d have third degree burns!”

“You won’t actually fall asleep on the fryer.” She shuffled back under the duvet, next to Duke, holding an arm out for Mac to curl into. She did exactly that, resting her head just under her chin, her hair ticking her cheeks. Heather had told herself to stop sleeping on her back in risk of sleep paralysis happening again, but she couldn’t bring herself to push Mac’s head and arm and leg off of her so she could sleep on her side, not when she started breathing softly, sometimes purring when she drew light circles on her shoulder blades. Her warm breath would skim the skin on her neck as she fell asleep, somehow soothing her until she herself drifted off, hopefully to a dream about something pleasant.

* * *

“Boo.”

Veronica’s head snapped around to meet Heather, who had quietly hurried over to them and grazed her palm across the small of their back. They snickered.

“Look at you, being touchy-feely.”

“I touched your back, that hardly means anything.”

“No, but in your eyes it usually would.” They closed their locker and spun around to face her with a smile. “Hey.”

Heather felt her whole self grow warm under their gaze. It was such a relief to be with them again, let alone be on the receiving end of an allured expression.

“Hey. You coming to lunch or what?”

“Of course.” They stepped away from their locker to stand by her side, walking alongside her down the hallways. “So did you hear anyone else talking about us outside of English this morning?”

“Here and there. Honestly, I think I’ve broken every student here, what with me dating JD, me siding with Heather after she came out, our whole group kind of falling apart and now rekindling. No one can keep up with the gossip - it’s all a mess.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I wouldn’t say so. It means people can’t stop and analyse our behaviour like they usually do because there’s just too much to take in.”

“Glad to see your weird skill in knowing how the school will react hasn’t changed,” Veronica commented, walking a little closer to her so that their shoulders would occasionally brush.

“It’s a survival tactic,” Heather said, tucking her clipboard back under her elbow after feeling it slip out of her grip. Ahead she could see the double doors to the cafeteria, and next to them stood Duke and Mac, talking amongst themselves while they presumably waited for them to arrive. Heather felt strange, knowingly returning to her usual lunch table. She hadn’t sat there with everyone since she’d cut her hair, hell, she had hardly sat there at all. Occasionally she and Duke had eaten there, but it was never for long. She was honestly surprised nobody had taken it from them in their absence, but it brought her comfort that nobody had. It was just a little proof that at least a few things had stayed under control.

“I don’t actually know what to do about lunch,” Veronica murmured, just loud enough to drag Heather out of her thoughts.

“What about it?”

“Well I… I don’t want to just go back to not eating with my friends,” they lamented. “But I’ve missed sitting with all of you. What should I do? Do I just go back and forth?”

Heather was about to reply, but was interrupted by footsteps hurrying towards them from behind. They both paused to see Betty speed-walking towards Veronica, with Martha and JD following behind, not bothering to keep up with her quick pace.

“Ew, Heather number four, move out the way,” Betty said as she punched Veronica’s shoulder. Veronica rolled their eyes.

“Ew, who is this loser talking to me. Can’t you see I’m busy… being cool and attractive, or whatever Heathers do.” They shoved her back playfully, while next to her, JD came to stand and slipped his fingers in with hers.

“Hi, love, darling, sweetheart, dear, how are you?” he greeted in a monotone voice. “How’d I do?”

“Shit, but I appreciate the effort.” When Veronica, Betty and Martha began walking towards Duke and Mac, they both followed. “Anyone bothered you today?”

“Nope. Actually, I think people are starting to get intimidated.”

“Oh really? What makes you think that?”

“Just small things, like people avoiding looking at me and moving out my way. It’s like nobody wants to bother me, which is pretty neat.” He huffed lightheartedly. “So I’d say everything is still going well.”

“That’s good to hear.” She continued to hold his hand for a little longer, until they took a few steps into the cafeteria, where she left him to join Veronica again, who seemed to be glancing back and forth around the large room. “What’s up?”

“I’m just wondering where to sit,” Veronica murmured. “I’ll likely sit with you all today, since it’s been a while, but I kinda wish we didn’t have to split off into completely different corners of the cafeteria, since it feels like we’re all on good terms now.” They glanced around the group, as did Heather, and while the sight of the two opposing cliques mixing was still a little jarring, she knew she would get used to it eventually. “I’d ask if they could sit with us, but I think seven people around a table would be a little crowded.”

“Especially on our table, since it’s one of the smaller ones,” Heather reminded them. “ _ Maybe _ we could fit six people on, but that sounds like a hassle.”

“Hm.” Veronica crossed their arms with a grunt. “Well, the thought was there.”

Heather clicked her tongue, glancing at their empty table as she took a moment to consider her options. No, it wouldn’t be heart wrenching to split off during lunch, but it would save Veronica the stress of spending enough time with both groups by having some sort of rotor. Humming to herself, she raked her gaze across the surrounding tables as an idea came to her, until her eyes landed on another table - this one also small like theirs, with just three people sitting on it. Nobody with recognisable faces, which was going to make her job a lot easier.

“Before you say your tragic goodbyes, hold this.” She shoved her clipboard into Veronica’s hands, who opened their mouth to question her, but Heather walked away before they could do so. She stopped at the head of the trio’s table, and all three heads looked up from their lunch to look at her in bewilderment. They looked younger than her - they were juniors at most. That would definitely work in her favour. Clearing her throat, she leaned forward, hands both on the table as she fluttered her lashes at them.

“Hi, boys. Do you usually sit here?”

The three of them all exchanged glances, stammering to come up with an answer.

“Uh- um, well, yeah? Usually, anyway.”

“I see. Sorry, I never noticed you around.” She drummed her nails against the surface. “I hate to do this, but I need this table.”

“What? Why? You have one!” one of them tried to protest, only to be slapped by his friend sitting next to him.

“Shut it, don’t get on her bad side,” he hissed to him, before looking up at her with a more polite gaze. “Uh, why’s that?”

“I have a few more… additions to my table I’d like to add, so I’d rather our lunch table not be so cramped. Don’t worry about having to sit on the floor like some dirty animal, though. There’s a bigger table somewhere in that direction that won’t be occupied anymore.” She gestured towards the side of the room where Veronica’s friends would have usually sat. “So I’m not leaving you homeless.”

Without even waiting for a response, she gripped the two corners closest to her and looked ready to pull. Realising she wasn’t going to give them much of a choice, the wordlessly gathered their things, almost spilling their drinks as they scrambled to stand up, and hurried off to find the aforementioned table she had offered. Satisfied, she immediately began hauling it towards their own table, causing a loud scraping sound to echo in the cafeteria as she did so as two of the legs were dragged across the floor. Many heads turned towards her and shot her a confused look, some muttering to their friends to try and speculate what she was doing, and while it made her speed up the action a little, she told herself to ignore them in favour of her own partner’s wants.

“There,” she said, walking around to give it one final shove into the original table. “If two of you could go grab those benches and pull them over too, that would be great. I need to get lunchtime poll over with.

The group looked at her in surprise, as if out of all the things she had done in the past few weeks,  _ this _ was the strangest thing. She could understand why; lunch tables were a sacred art and she kept the gates locked and secured around hers, except for pretty brunettes with particularly skilled hands.

“Are you… letting us sit with you?” Martha asked, looking stunned. Heather sighed.

“Yes. And you’re going to have to accept it because I told the people I took this table from to sit at your old table.”

“Well, I guess we don’t have a choice, but that’s fine.” Betty shrugged and hurried over to one of the benches. JD followed to grab the other one.

“Will this soothe your nerves now?” Heather asked as she walked back over to Veronica, taking her clipboard back. Veronica just smiled at her gratefully.

“It will. Thanks, Heather,” they said. “I’d kiss you, but we’re in public.”

“That’s fine, I’ll take the sentiment.” As she was about to walk away to get her poll done, a tug on her sleeve caught her attention.

“Heather?” Mac asked.

“Hey, Mac. Hm, I haven’t actually said hello to yet. Hi - what’s up?”

“Hi. Um… well, what you did was very nice and all… but what about Heather?” She twiddled her thumbs nervously as she nodded to Duke, who was looking at the table with discomfort, hesitating to place her bag down. Heather frowned.

“What about her?”

“Oh…” Veronica deflated. “Part of the reason she didn’t sit with us when Mara and I were at the other table is because she doesn’t like eating in front of new people.”

“Oh.” Heather grimaced. “Heather?” she called over to her, hurrying closer. “Are you gonna be alright with this? Sorry, I didn’t stop to think-”

“I’ll be okay,” Duke muttered. “I’m gonna have to get used to it one way or another. This’ll be good for me… in the long run.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll just… take it slow. Besides, if they sit on one end and I sit on the other, I should be okay.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.” She glanced back at the table, as Betty and JD had just pulled the two benches over, and already it looked strange to her. She even felt a twinge of regret, but she pushed it down, because there was no use holding onto a routine that ultimately tore everyone apart. “I think it’ll be good for me too,” she said quietly as she watched the three newcomers take their seats, notably on the new end of the table.

Martha and Betty sat next to each other, of course, while JD sat opposite. Duke placed her bag on the far end of the row that Martha and Betty sat on, and Mac would likely sit next to her once they grabbed lunch. Veronica seemed to be ready to sit down, before turning back around and walking over to Heather.

“Say, do you need any help doing lunchtime poll?” they asked. “It’s been a while.”

“Didn’t you cover for me while I was gone?”

“I mean, it’s been a while since we’ve done it together.”

“Oh.” She hugged her clipboard close. “Sure, you can come with.”

“Alright! We’ll be back, everyone,” Veronica called to the group, who all acknowledged them leaving, and Heather led them away to their first table. “So, who’s first? Country club kids?”

“Might as well get them out the way,” Heather grunted, looking over the question one last time.

“Oh, not on good terms with them right now, I see,” Veronica chuckled. Heather rolled her eyes.

“It’s mainly Courtney. She’s not too happy about me being associated with Heather Duke, still.”

“Well, she can cry herself to sleep about it.”

“Exactly.” She looked up, and they were but a few steps away from the table in question. She immediately plastered on a faux smile, prepared to hold it for the next five minutes and act like there was no tension between them. “Hello again. You already know what this is,” she announced herself. Nobody seemed too bothered by her presence, but not particularly excited either, whereas usually they’d be vibrating with the need to start conversation. The exception was, of course, Courtney, who didn’t seem impressed  _ at all _ by her showing her face. Regardless of her lack of effort to stay friendly, however, she gestured for her to speak.

“Yeah. What’s the question?”

Heather eyed her skeptically, making sure she knew she noticed her off-putting behaviour, before reading everyone the question. She got the generic, preformative answers that she got every week, wrote them down as quickly as she could, but noticed she was one answer short. She glanced down at the girl sitting closest to where she stood, tapping her pen against the clipboard impatiently.

“Not talking today, Courtney?”

As soon as she said that, everyone else on the table either looked away or even shielded their eyes from what they imagined would be a soon-to-be scene.

“I’m not going to waste my time with you today, Heather,” Courtney muttered, not even looking up from the lunch that she wasn’t eating.

“And why’s that?” Tucking her clipboard under her arm, she rested a hand right in front of her so she would at least be looking at  _ some _ of her.

“I don’t associate myself with degenerates.”

“ _ Excuse _ me?”

“I got a good view of your table over there, Heather,” Courtney finally looked up, but not to face her. She instead nodded to the extended table where the rest of her friendship group sat. “Are those really the people you’re associating yourself with now?”

“Hey, those people are my friends, y’know,” Veronica cut in. Courtney rolled her eyes at the sound of their voice, which began to make Heather’s blood boil.

“Figures,” she huffed. “It doesn’t come as a shock to anyone, Veronica, since now you’re dressing like a queer.”

Veronica looked taken aback for a second, before their gaze darkened and they stepped forward.

“I’m sorry, what did you call me?” they sneered. Courtney opened her mouth to repeat it, but Veronica beat her to it. “I’d say you’re lucky I don’t find that word very insulting, but the fact that you’re  _ trying _ to insult me by using that word at all is enough for me.”

Courtney ignored them, instead finally looked up at Heather to deadpan at her.

“Remember that warning I gave you ages ago?  _ This _ is what I was talking about.” She gestured to Veronica, up and down. “She’s tainted your image, Heather. I tried to warn you, and you didn’t listen. You’re becoming one of  _ them. _ ”

Admittedly her word made her shift uncomfortably, because she knew full well what happened to the type of people she was talking about. But she hid it with a scoff.

“You’re acting like I’m unaware of my surroundings, Courtney,” she snapped. “Only, I can see that I’m not sinking, despite what people like you may think. I’m still at the top, whether you like it or not.”

“Well, I  _ don’t _ like it. Why would you let people like  _ them _ at the top when there are others who actually deserve it, hm?”

Heather could have laughed. “You mean, people like  _ you? _ Some entitled, stuck-up, know-it-all priss? What makes you any better than them, huh? Go ahead, hand over your CV.”

Courtney crossed her arms and turned her nose up at her. “Like you’d listen to what I had to say. Your type of people are misfits who would happily dress up in drag, apparently. What happened to you? You used to be someone I looked up to.”

“No, I was always someone you could benefit from,” Heather snarled. “You were always jealous that  _ I _ made it to the top while you never did, and since you knew full well you couldn’t take me down, you took to leeching off of my popularity instead. I’m not blind, I know  _ exactly _ what you are.”

“You’re calling me a  _ leech? _ ” Suddenly Courtney stood up to stare Heather down, though it was humorous seeing her still having to look up at her. Heather smirked, her lip curling.

“Yeah, I am.”

Courtney leered at her bitterly.

“Tch. Like I’d want to leech off of a slut like you. What do you have to offer? How to give three guys a handjob at once?”

Heather’s stomach churched. “First off, don’t call me a slut when all your worth comes from whatever expensive clothes it is you're wearing. Two, giving three guys a handjob at once is  _ very impressive _ and if I had that skill I would be real fucking proud of it.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk about expensive clothes-” she stepped closer to her, only to be stopped by two hands shoving their way between them, pushing them apart.

“Okay, okay, break it up,” Veronica chided. “We all remember what happened last time we got into a fight.”

Both Heather and Courtney held one another’s gaze for a few moments longer, both considering their words, before ultimately backing down.

“I know she’s a bitch, but she’s not worth the effort,” Veronica murmured to her, pulling her away. “Come on, we need to finish lunchtime poll.”

Heather shot one last vexed glare at Courtney, who just looked away in disgruntlement. She reluctantly let Veronica pull her away, though she was still very much heated. Once enough distance between them and the table had been created, Veronica whispered to her,

“So, we’re getting revenge on her, right?”

Heather glimpsed at her mischievous looking partner and smirked.

“Obviously. She called you a queer and the rest of you degenerates.”

They both cackled amongst each other, and throughout the rest of the lunchtime poll session, Heather tried to come up with numerous ways they could take Courtney down, even if just by a few notches. It seems she was out of practice in that field though, since every rumour she came up with would be something somebody like her could brush off like it was nothing.

Once sat back down at the lunch table with their lunches, between Veronica and JD, she gave a quick summary of what happened.

“So, now Veronica and I are trying to come up with ways to get her back,” she finished. “You got any ideas, ‘Ronica?”

“No, not really. This is a you-job.”

“Didn’t you spread the rumour that I pegged Kurt and Ram a few days ago?” Duke arched a brow at them, and they averted their gaze in response.

“Wait, do you  _ have _ to get revenge on her?” Martha asked timidly. “Maybe it’s best to just let it be.”

“She called you a degenerate, how can you say that?” Heather asked.

“I hate to do this, but Heather’s right,” Betty said. “Petty revenge is sometimes completely justifiable.”

“Okay, fair, calling us that wasn’t very nice,” Martha sighed. “Sorry, I’m not exactly good at the whole being a mean high schooler thing.”

“That’s fine. You can watch and learn, you’re sitting at our table now.”

Martha immediately grew brighter. “I know, it’s so exciting! Veronica, is this how it felt sitting here for the first time? I can see why you’d abandon me for that.”

Veronica chuckled uncomfortably. “Ah… yeah, it’s, um, pretty great.”

“Order at the Heathers table, we need  _ ideas, _ people!” JD declared, slamming his hand in the middle of the table several times. “How do we destroy a girl’s high school career!”

“Chill, sweetie,” Heather mockingly cooed, grabbing his hand and pulling it back to his side.

“I dunno, spread an incest rumour?” Betty suggested with a mouthful of sandwich. Duke’s head immediately sank into her hands.

“We’re not doing that,” she groaned. Mac snickered next to her.

“You told them about that poor high school couple who you chased out of school?”

“A mistake on my behalf, apparently.”

“Heather, surely your mind is filled with potential rumours to spread about people,” Veronica said.

“It  _ is, _ but here’s the thing about Courtney - she’s high on the social ladder. She has the advantage of people caring enough about her to double check if the rumour is true. It may embarrass her for a day or two, but it wouldn’t  _ last. _ ” She twirled her fork around in her spaghetti as she tried to come up with a plan that would for sure work. “It especially wouldn’t last if we spread it; we’re notorious for spreading rumours, and usually people don’t care about that, but when it’s  _ popular _ people, it becomes an issue.”

“Mhmm. It’s why we had to get Hale and Diego to spread the Kurt and Ram rumours for us,” Duke said. “Speaking of which, haven’t seen them in the caf yet, I wonder how they’re holding up?”

“Probably not well,” Heather said with a chuckle.

“Wait, why don’t we just do that again?” Mac asked. “It worked perfectly last time.”

“We  _ could, _ but we don’t want it to become a pattern,” Heather said. “People would figure out something is up if all the rumours came from them.”

The table fell quiet in thought for a moment, before Duke spoke up.

“Well, who says we need a rumour?” she asked deviously. Heather raised a brow in interest, leaning forward.

“Go on.”

“How about we make it known to her that we’re going to destroy her, but we never actually do?” she explained. “She’s fully expecting a rumour to come out about her, and she’s waiting to dismiss it, but it just never comes.” She chuckled darkly to herself. “Oh, we could even get people to whisper to each other around her or shoot her weird looks, but there’s no actual rumour, so nothing ever comes out. So, she just has to suffer through her own paranoia, waiting for a rumour that doesn’t exist to finally come out.”

Heather widened her eyes. “That’s genius.”

“I know,” Duke said with a smug grin that Heather wished she could kiss, but that would have to wait. Not just because they were surrounded by prying eyes, but also because Veronica leaned towards her and whispered,

“Is it obvious that I’m queer?”

Heather blinked at them, unsure how to respond. Sure, their new appearance was definitely different than their old style, but it wasn’t like they had just abandoned all forms of femininity.

“She’s just convinced that since one of us is, then maybe the rest of us are too.”

“Technically she’s right - there’s isn’t a single straight person on this table.”

Heather huffed in amusement. “Well, sure, but she doesn’t actually know that.” With a quick glance around her, she shuffled a little closer so she could grab their hand under the table. “But look, if anybody starts spreading shit about you that you don’t want to be spread, I’ll sort it, okay?”

Veronica smiled softly. “Well, thanks,” they murmured. “I’m just… I’m just wondering if I should have come clean.”

“What do you mean ‘come clean’?”

“Well… I  _ am _ queer, and denying it, or at least, avoiding the question, felt wrong.” They traced circles on Heather’s thigh, staring at the table in front of them. “I don’t want to be ashamed of being bigender or bisexual. But the thought of coming out is just so daunting.”

Heather bit her lip, trying to word her reply right before letting it out. “I’m… not the best person to talk about this with, but, um, you’re not obliged to come out, you know.” She let go of their hand and gave them a serious look. “You don’t have a sworn duty to the entire LGBT community to come out - you’re literally just a teenager currently trapped in hell. I don’t know… I feel like you shouldn’t come out because you feel like you  _ need _ to, but because you want to. Why should you  _ need _ to put yourself out there?”

Veronica shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know that so many people did end up being inspired by Heather when she came out.”

“Well, good for them and good for her, but you don’t have to put yourself out there because you feel like it’ll make a difference. I’m sure it would, but you should think about what  _ you _ want.” She gazed at her lap as she grew wistful. “For me, at least, it’s  _ my _ identity, and I get to decide what I want to do with it. And right now? I think I want to keep it to myself.” She swallowed thickly. “I know what happens when people think you’re a lesbian, nevermind when they  _ know. _ None of them deserve to know about my identity just because coming out would be a  _ brave thing to do. _ ” She sighed dolefully. “Am I making much sense?”

“You are,” Veronica said, nodding. “Thanks, sweetie.”

Heather felt herself grow warm at the nickname and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, sweetheart.”

They both turned their attention back to the table for a few moments, before slowly looking at each other again.

“You wanna make out in the janitor’s closet later?”

“No shit I do.”

* * *

“Do you  _ have _ to study tonight, ‘Ronica?” Heather whined, giving them a prideful pout. “Why do a boring assignment when you could hang out with Heather and I? And Heather too - I’m sure she’d want to tag along.”

“I would want to tag along, yes!” Mac chirped from behind her. “However, I  _ do _ need to get on top of some of my own assignments too…”

“ _ Ugh, _ you’re all so boring,” she groaned. Veronica just chuckled.

“How about you do some of  _ your _ work while we’re doing ours?” they suggested.

“Ew, no, I’d rather sit there in silence for an hour.”

“See, there’s your problem.”

“I don’t have a problem!” She rummaged through her bag to search for her car keys as the group made their way towards the parking lot. It was the end of the day, and other than the Courtney confrontation, it hadn’t been so bad. Especially since they planned on taking their revenge as soon as they could, ideally first thing tomorrow morning. For now, though, all Heather wanted to do is go home with her girlfriend and collapse on her bed.

“Actually, you do have a problem,” Duke spoke up, tugging her arm backwards. Heather rolled her eyes.

“Don’t agree with him.”

“No, I mean-” she pulled Heather back to stop her from walking and reached up to her chin to lift her head up, so she’d be looking straight ahead. “You have  _ a problem. _ ”

To her dismay, she saw two familiar figures standing by the very car she had planned on hopping in. Her mother, looking as tired and irritable as ever, was pacing back and forth around the driver’s side door, while her father leaned against the passenger side, looking around the parking lot impatiently, no doubt searching for her.

“Fuck,” she hissed. “They’re still looking for me?”

“Oh no.” Mac stepped back to stand by Heather. “What should we do? Should we go back inside?”

“And wait there for however long?” Duke said.

“But we can’t confront them!”

“Should we distract them somehow?” Veronica asked. Heather sighed.

“No,” she said. “Come on, I might as well get this over with.”

“Are you sure?” Veronica asked.

“If it means I might get them off my back, then yes,” she grumbled, marching forward, with her girlfriends - or, girlfriends and also partner - following close behind like a tight shield. Not long after she got closer to the parking lot, her father spotted her, and did not once let his gaze relent from her. Her skin was burning with shame and she kept her head down, but more than anything, she was tired of seeing their faces.

“ _ Finally, _ ” was the first thing her mother said, hands rubbing her arms as a cold breeze hit them both. “Heather-”

“What do you want?” Heather snapped, her anger outweighing her cowardice. “If you’re here to tell me to come home, I’ll pass.”

Her mother looked offended by her bluntness, but she took a deep breath to attempt to calm herself.

“Hear us out, please.”

Heather huffed dismissively. “Nothing you can say can get me to come home with you.”

“But-”

“No, not even for grandma’s birthday,” she cut in, narrowing her gaze at her. “I don’t live there anymore, I don’t have to go.”

“Heather,” her father’s low voice rumbled with a dangerous impatience. She finally fell quiet and listened. “We know you’re mad at us - still mad at us, it seems. But if you don’t show up to a family gathering being hosted at your own home, then it’ll either come off as incredibly disrespectful, or we’re going to have to explain ourselves to the family. And you  _ know _ what your mother’s side of the family is like.”

“Yours isn’t much better!” her mother snapped at him, before calming herself down to face Heather again. “Heather, we are asking you as  _ nicely _ as we can,  _ please _ show up to this gathering. Better yet - just bring your stuff home, and we’ll forget about this whole thing, yeah?”

Heather scoffed, turning away from her as she crossed her arms indignantly. “Why should I? I think you  _ should _ explain why I don’t live there anymore. In great detail.”

“You know we can’t do that.”

“Then you should have never driven me out.”

A silence fell on both of them, which was both surprising and incredibly satisfying for Heather to hear. It was rare to hear such a thing happen, it was usually her who would give up arguing and take whatever punishment they would throw at her, justified or not.

Then, her mother let out an exasperated sigh, and after some rustling, she pulled something out of her coat. Heather stole a glimpse at the item out of curiosity. In her hand was a slip of paper with writing that Heather couldn’t read from where she stood, but luckily, she didn’t need to.

“We will give you your college funds early if you come home,” her mother told her. “That may seem pointless, but this includes the extra money we saved for you over the years that you’re free to spend however you want before then.”

“What?” Heather stared at her in bewilderment. “Wait, you actually saved money for me?”

“We make a lot of money, Heather. There was no use letting you fall into debt when we can fix it.”

She looked at the cheque skeptically.

“How much is there?”

“ _ Heather, _ ” Duke warned her from somewhere behind, but Heather ignored her, at least for the time being.

Her mother didn’t reply, just held the cheque up closer to her. Heather hesitantly took it, took a quick look at the number written next to the dollar sign, and her eyes widened. For a moment, she thought it was a lie, that there was no way her parents would ever hand her a fraction of this amount, especially when she so often used their money for all of her worthless materialistic needs.

“Three hundred grand?” she spoke quietly, looking back up at them both. Behind her she heard Duke whisper a  _ “shit,” _ under her breath. While she was distracted, her mother snatched the check back out of her grip, and her hands felt incredibly empty again.

“It’ll be yours,  _ if _ you move back in and mention  _ nothing _ to the rest of the family,” her mother told her sternly, hiding the cheque in her coat again. “It’s your choice.”

Heather had to consider her options. On one hand, moving back in with her parents sounded like a recipe for disaster; despite what they believed, she wasn’t stupid. She knew full well that they wouldn’t forget and forgive this whole fiasco, that she’d likely be grounded for as long as she lived there, or at least have them constantly berating her for it. On the other hand, that was a lot of fucking money, and living with them for another six months or so would earn her more than any job within her reach ever could. Maybe it was worth risking her mental health for a shit-ton of money, and maybe even a small chance at rekindling with her family. Maybe.

“Heather, you can’t,” Duke spoke up, hurrying over to her. “You can’t let them  _ bribe _ you into moving back in with them. You’re worth far more than that.”

Heather glanced at her doubtfully. “Worth more than  _ three hundred grand, _ though?” She grimaced, doing a so-and-so gesture with her hand. “I dunno, that kinda raises my ego, not gonna lie to you.”

Having figured out what was coming, Duke slapped her forehead with her palm, and Heather felt bad for leaving her worrying, but it was necessary. She looked back to her parents calmly.

“I don’t know how much of my stuff I can move back in by… Friday, is it?”

“Yes, Friday,” her father said. “And how is it not? That’s  _ four days. _ ”

“I… I have school? I’d rather do it on a weekend, y’know?”

“That’s fine,” her mother said quickly, sounding incredibly relieved. “Take as much time as you want bringing your stuff back, just… just show up to the family gathering, okay? I’ll give you the check as soon as you walk through the door.”

_ Perfect. _ She stopped herself from smirking, replacing it with an innocent, reassuring smile. “Sounds good to me.”

“Heather-” Duke tried to protest again, but Heather carried on talking.

“Question, though. Can I bring a plus one?”

Her mother seemed slightly confused, but was clearly more concerned with her bribe having worked to care.

“So long as it’s just  _ one, _ ” she said, eyeing the whole group. “A few of your cousins will be doing the same, we can’t have the house get so crowded with teenagers.”

“One is fine,” she said. “I’ll see you then.”

“Be there at five. No later than that.”

“Five. Got it.”

The few moments they spent holding one another’s gaze was awkward, as if there was more than needed to be said, and they were both waiting for it to happen. But nothing else was spoken, all that happened was a curt, expectant nod from her mother, before she and her father finally made their departure. Their car - notably a  _ new _ car that Heather hadn’t seen before - was just a few spaces down, and Heather couldn’t resist yelling,

“That’s a new car. What was wrong with the old one?”

“Nothing, Heather,” her mother replied bitterly, swiftly stepping into the passenger side’s seat while her father started it up. She heard Veronica snicker at her mother’s response, to which she did the same. After watching it drive out of sight, Duke turned towards her and stared her down.

“Heather! What were you thinking?”

“Heather-”

“You can’t move back in with your parents! Not when they had to  _ bribe _ you with stupid amounts of money to do so. That’s like a million red flags at once!”

“I know, I was just-”

“What if you hurt yourself again?” Duke glared at her intensely, and Heather felt a hint of guilt in seeing how upset she was. “We don’t know what punishment they might give you once you move back in, what if we can’t see you when you need us? What if-”

“Heather, I’m not moving back in!” she barked. “I know full well they won’t be nice to me if I did, but I’ll be honest Heather, living with you isn’t much better!” She rubbed her temples and groaned. “You don’t realise how many things you can do without worrying about it until you  _ have _ to worry about it. I don’t remember the last time I had a shower or went to the bathroom without having to listen out for footsteps that weren’t  _ yours. _ And it’s only a matter of time until your family comes into your room and find the new tank next to Bubblez’! What will you say when they ask you about the giant cockroaches in your bedroom? They won’t believe that they’re yours - you’re a germaphobe.”

“I’ll say I’m watching them for you!”

“No, you won’t - it’s fine. Mac already offered for me to move in with her.”

“She did?”

“Yes. I  _ will _ be moving, but it won’t be to my parents’ house. So long as Mac’s dad says yes.” She glanced at Mac questioningly, to which she shrugged.

“I haven’t asked him yet, but I’m sure he won’t care at all.”

“See? It’ll all be fine.”

Duke nodded, a sigh escaping her lips. “Alright. Admittedly, that’s really good to hear, because hiding you in my room is also one of the most stressful experiences I’ve ever had.” She pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment of relief, before looking back up at her in confusion. “But, then… why did you agree to go back?”

“I’m not  _ actually _ going back. You think I was going to pass up three hundred grand? With that amount of money, I don’t even  _ need _ to go to college to get a good job, I can just buy a house.” She laughed at the thought. “Though, it wouldn’t hurt to get a bit of interest first.”

“So, you’re going to pretend you’re staying?” Veronica raised a brow with a fond grin. “Now that’s evil.”

“Sitting through one last family gathering isn’t so bad when I consider the reward.”

“But- Heather, what if they come looking for you?” Mac asked worrisomely. “If you run off with such a large amount of money, I don’t think they’re just going to  _ forget _ about it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, hun, when I say this is going to be my last family gathering, I mean I’m going to make  _ sure _ it’ll be my last.” She shot her a smirk. “Speaking of which. Veronica, are you free Friday night?”

Veronica blinked. “Um, yeah? No plans as of now… why?”

“You heard me before. I need a plus one.” She walked over to them and linked her arm with theirs, still smirking. “And I think you’d be perfect.”

“Hey, why not us?” Duke said with a frown. Heather sighed.

“I’d bring both of you if I could. But my family already knows you both - they need a fresh face. Besides, Veronica’s the best option for what I wanna do. Heather, you’ve already got a lot on your plate, and Mac, I don’t want to put you in a stressful environment that you can’t process.”

Both Duke and Mac shot each other a puzzled look, but accepted it regardless. The only person who remained skeptical was Veronica, who was giving her a strange look.

“So, what exactly do you need  _ me _ for?”

Heather chuckled as she drummed her fingers on their bicep.

“Well, you don’t  _ have _ to do anything you don’t want to, but since you have such a strong dislike towards my parents, I think you may like what I have in mind.”

Veronica raised a brow curiously.

“I’m concerned, but also intrigued,” they said, leaning closer.

“Tell me more...”


	2. I'm Coming Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather brings Veronica to a family gathering. Things go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNINGS: child abuse, gaslighting, antisemitism, transphobia, bi/panphobia, homophobia, slutshaming, religious trauma

When footsteps could be heard moving down the hallway, Heather did her best to muffle her cries. Smushing her face into her pillow, she continued to let out uncontrollable hiccups, but swallowed down her sobs. The footsteps grew closer and Heather pulled her blanket over herself, praying that whoever was on the other side couldn’t hear her. She knew she’d be interrogated if they could, and that she would have to answer questions she didn’t want to face, or they would just get increasingly annoyed with her. When she could tell the person was right outside her door, she held her breath for as long as she could, that is, until she heard three knocks. Panicking, she wiped her face as much as she could, her tears and other grossness that came from crying smeared on her sheets as she turned her head to stare at the door. She debated not answering, pretending she was asleep, but she had always been a terrible liar.

“Heather?” The sound of her mother’s voice came from the other side. It wasn’t harsh like it usually was. It was actually softer than usual, which calmed her down.

“Mmm?” She tried to answer with her usual tone, but the voice crack gave her away. The door began to open, and she winced.

“Heather, why are you crying?” Her mother stared at her from across the room, hip rested on the doorframe. Her tone was dry, almost disinterested, but it wasn’t angry at least, so Heather felt comfortable enough coming clean.

“I… um…” She swallowed and her throat ached as she did so. Her mother rolled her eyes, closing the door behind her to make her way over to the bed. She sat at the far end, right on the edge.

“Come on, might as well spit it out. I have to make you dinner soon, you know,” she told her. She sounded impatient, but again, it wasn’t angry. Heather took a deep breath.

“I can’t do my homework,” she confessed. “It’s too hard.”

Her mother let out an amused huff. “Oh, is that all? Just leave it and come back to it later. The answers will come to you.”

“No, it’s…” She stared at her fidgeting hands. “I tried asking daddy for help. He… he yelled at me.”

She glimpsed at her mother to search her reaction, and saw her staring at her blankly.

“Why did he yell at you?”

“He… thaid-  _ said _ that I was too old to be asking for help.” She hid her face with her ginger locks in shame. “And that if I didn’t start learning how to do things by myself, I’d be stupid forever.” She whimpered. “Am I stupid, mommy?”

Her mother didn’t reply at first, and she wondered if she was going to give up on the conversation and leave her. Not looking forward to her response, she kept her head down. A few silent moments went by, until Heather felt the unexpectant sinking of the mattress next to her as her mother shuffled up to sit beside her. She looked up at her in confusion, and while she wasn’t looking at her, she had a calm, almost soothing expression adorning her face.

“What were you struggling with exactly, Heather?”

“Um…” She hesitantly reached for her nightstand and took her sheet of homework to show her. “I don’t understand these questionth. It wants me to find the angles of these triangleth, but I don’t get how.”

Her mother took it from her and quickly read over it.

“What do all three angles add up to, Heather?”

“Um… I don’t… I don’t know.”

“It’s 180. It’s always 180. Didn’t they tell you that?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Her mother sighed, handing her the sheet back.

“Heather, you need to start listening in class if you want to learn these things,” she told her. “Then your father wouldn’t yell at you.”

Heather’s lip began to quiver as she stared back at her homework. “I’m sorry,” she cried, tears beginning to well up again.

“No, no, none of that,” her mother quickly said, taking the homework away from her. “I’ll tell your father to apologise to you, especially since you know how to do it now. Will that make it better?”

Heather shakily nodded, even though she knew her father apologising genuinely was an alien concept, the thought of him at least saying the words was a nice thought.

“Alright.” Her mother placed the sheet somewhere out of her view, and Heather expected her to get up and leave her again, but she didn’t. The silence they shared was awkward, and Heather thought that maybe her mother was waiting for her to break it.

“Am I stupid, mommy?”

Her mother blinked upon hearing the question, looking at her.

“Sometimes you are, yes.”

“Oh…” She felt the urge to cry again, until a hand gently placed itself on the back of her head.

“But you’re a child. All children are stupid. It’s not your fault. It’s just a matter of growing out of it.”

She longfully looked at her. “Will I grow out of it?”

“I think so, yeah.” The hand then fell to her shoulder, and a slight nudge could be felt. Heather was pressed against her mother’s side, her arm wrapped around her back. “It happens to everyone. You go through school to get educated - that’s when you stop being stupid, it’s why school exists. You’ll meet a few boys, probably dump all of them because high school relationships never last, or they’re never meant to. You’ll meet the right man once you’re out of that pigsty, and the day you come home with your soulmate is a day I’m looking forward to.”

“It is?”

“Of course. It’ll mean you succeeded at life. Finding a husband to settle down with is your reward, after going through all the crap - excuse my foul mouth - in school and in work. You can come home to a family - one that you  _ love, _ that is, and everything will be perfect.” She picked the sheet of homework back up again. “Don’t worry about being stupid now, Heather. Worry about growing out of it, because if you don’t, you’re going to fail.”

Heather slowly nodded, taking in each word.

“But… how can I be sure I found my soulmate?” she asked. “What if I pick the wrong person?”

Her mother’s smile faltered, just for a second.

“You’ll know if they’re not the one, because you won’t love them. So it’s best you don’t be stupid and learn to realise when you picked the wrong man, before it’s too late.”

Heather nodded again, taking her homework back and looking over it again. It still looked daunting, but she was determined for it to not be, so she wouldn’t fail at her entire life.

“I can do that, mommy,” she said. “I promise.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s my girl.” The arm left her again, and Heather knew she’d miss it. It was rare her mother held her like that. “I came to say that it’s stew for dinner. Do you want bread rolls?”

“Yes pleathe!” she chipped. “No butter though.”

“Right… no butter.” She briefly shot her a weird look before standing back up. Heather watched her make her way back to the door wistfully, wishing she could have a few more moments alone with her. As she opened the door, Heather couldn’t help but call out to her again, to make her pause from taking the first step out of her room.

“Mommy?”

“Mmm?” She looked back at her.

“Where did you and daddy meet?” she asked. Her mother wordlessly stared at her for a while, before softly replying in a dry tone,

“In junior year, on the football field.” Her nails drummed against the door. “We were skipping class.”

“That’s naughty, mom!”

“I know it is.” She turned away from her. “I was pretty stupid back then.”

Then she left, closing the door on her way out.

* * *

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” Mac said, shooting Heather a worrisome look as she and Veronica readied themselves to step into her car. 

“Mac, I’m going to my parent’s house, not a pool of piranhas.”

“I don’t see much of a difference,” Duke quipped.

“It’s just… what you said about why you moved out to begin with…” Mac absentmindedly, or perhaps consciously, ran her fingers through her hair before tugging at it, and Heather immediately knew what she was referring to. As promised, she’d told Mac why she had cut her hair after the party, and predictably she had gotten worried. She wondered if that had contributed to her staying awake at 5am the other night. She’d reassured her that she was fine, but clearly she didn’t fully believe her. Sighing, she rested a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m only going to be there for a night.”

“Yeah, but… with what you’re planning,” she murmured, twiddling her fingers. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I won’t be alone,” Heather told her. “I have Veronica, remember?”

“It’s true, she has me,” Veronica chipped in, her hip leaning against the car. “I’ll be with her the whole time.”

“Okay,” Mac murmured, nodding in reluctant acceptance. Heather felt bad, and she wished she could take her too, but family gatherings were definitely not Mac’s thing, especially not with a family who would never respect her boundaries. She would never drag her there in risk that she’d have a shutdown, or even a meltdown. She glanced around the school parking lot; it was near empty at this point, meaning no one was around, and so she leaned down to plant a quick reassuring peck on her cheek, her thumb caressing her chin as she gazed into her wide hazel eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” she told her. “And it’ll be so worth it for that cheque, won’t it?”

Mac chuckled slightly. “It is a lot of money.”

“Exactly.” She stood up straight again, before glancing at Duke. She seemed a little more confident than Mac, but still appeared on edge. She cocked her edge to the side. “Are you going to try and talk me out of this?”

“No, I just worry how things will play out, is all,” Duke replied. “I couldn’t imagine doing this with my family.”

“You still live with your family. Of course it would be more difficult.”

“I suppose.”

She rolled her eyes, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“It’ll go fine, even if it doesn’t go smoothly,” she told her. “I’m not expecting it to go smoothly.”

“Okay, well,” Duke cleared her throat, recovering from the brief show of affection. “We should let you both go.”

“Mhmm. Gotta be there by five, and we have to stop by my house before then,” Veronica reminded her, opening the car door. Heather gave a nod, hurrying around to her side of the car. Before hopping in, she gave Mac and Duke one last wave and a confident smile in hopes of soothing their nerves, until she left them behind, where she imagined they’d probably spend the night together, perhaps at Mac’s house. Hopefully they wouldn’t overthink things the entire time, because no matter what happened, she was sure the outcome would be the one she wanted, or at the very least, expected.

In just a few minutes they were outside Veronica’s, and Heather stayed in the car as she waited for Veronica to rush in, grab the clothes that Heather had bought her earlier in the week, and soon enough she returned, waving goodbye to somebody behind her. Her parents, she assumed, with a vague feeling of envy. She could never understand Veronica’s relationship with her parents, or her ability to smile at them without a second thought. It was an alien concept to her.

Veronica leaped back into her seat, clothes on her lap as well as a small bag, probably full of things like perfume, or cologne? What did Veronica prefer to wear these days? She knew she still wore perfume to school - she knew because of the few times they’d been intimate in the janitor’s closet, but she wondered if she still wore it because she liked it, or because she felt the need to conform to gender norms that could catch her out if she broke them.

_ Why don’t I just ask? _

“Do you prefer perfume or cologne?”

Veronica’s head turned to her.

“Huh?”

“Just because… you know, the whole gender thing.”

“Hm,” Veronica hummed in thought. “I don’t know - why do we need to separate one from the other? Both of them have the same function, one of them is just going to smell less like flowers to save mens’ fragile masculinity from shattering. I just like whatever smells nice.”

“Okay, so what smells better?”

“Perfume, by far. Men like to smell like cigarettes and gin marinated in sugar to try and still be appealing but also show some sort of dominance. Just wear some fucking lavendar spray and maybe you’ll calm down.”

Heather giggled. “Like men bother with cologne half the time anyway.”

“The boys at our school certainly don’t. How did you have sex with any of them?”

“Perseverance and dissociation, mostly,” Heather said in the most relaxed tone she could muster so that Veronica wouldn’t worry. Though, she did shoot her a concerned glance, but said nothing in response. “Sometimes attraction too. Not every experience I had was bad, you know.”

“I’m really glad it wasn’t.”

“Me too.” A brief silence fell on them, which Heather didn’t appreciate too much, especially when it caused her to focus so much on taking the last few turns to her house. It had been weeks since she had driven down these roads, it almost made her feel ill to do it again. But she knew it would all be worth it. Hopefully.

“Home sweet home,” she commented as she parked on her parents’ driveway. “Okay, time to meet my makers.”

“Never refer to your parents as ‘your makers’ ever again.”

“I shall do what I want, Sawyer.” She grabbed her bag - a bag that was actually empty, but you couldn’t tell unless you looked inside - and Veronica grabbed hers as well as her clothes, and they made their way towards the front door. As they walked up the pathway, Heather passed the very spot that Almond had almost been crushed, and she winced, accidentally letting out a quiet noise as she did so. Veronica looked at her, concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she told her. “It’s just, last time I was here, my dad nearly, um… crushed my pet cockroach.”

“Yeesh.” Veronica grimaced. “I’m glad he didn’t, though.”

“Me too.”

“Though I keep meaning to ask more about that,” she added. “You bought  _ pet cockroaches? _ ”

“Hey, I told you I was an insect kid. Don’t bash my insects.”

“I’m not bashing! Just, um,  _ cockroaches? _ ”

“It was an impulse buy to keep me distracted and I don’t regret it in the slightest.” She turned her nose up. “Mac will appreciate them much more when she meets them.”

“I’m sure they’re very- uhh… cute?”

“Just tell me you think my children are ugly,” she huffed as she rang the doorbell. Mere moments later, her mother answered the door, looking slightly stressed, with the few strands of hair out of place giving her away.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed. “See, Joel? I  _ told _ you she’d show up!” she called back into the house, her voice shrill and ear-piercing enough to make Heather wince. She turned back to them both, her gaze softening slightly at the sight of company. “Right. Sorry. In you come.” She opened the door wider to let them inside. Heather said nothing, while Veronica grunted a thank you that was definitely forced. Once the door was closed and her mother came around to stand in front of her again, an awkward silence fell between them. They both stared at each other, unsure what to say, until Heather decided to speak first.

“Um- I don’t think you’ve met Veronica,” she said, gesturing for Veronica to come forward, which she did. “She’s-”

“No, we have met,” her mother said, looking her up and down. “We spoke the other day when your father and I were looking for you.”

“It’s nice to see you again,” Veronica lied. She was a surprisingly good actor.

“You too. But I’m surprised, Heather. I would have thought you’d bring Heather.”

“Which one?”

“The blonde one.”

“Oh. Yeah, um, big gatherings aren’t her thing.” Sort of a lie. Mac can handle parties just fine, but when it’s a family gathering with little to no escape from casual conversation and small talk, it can become a problem. “I didn’t think she’d want to come. Besides, the family has all met her, as well as Heather. They might as well meet Veronica too.”

“I see. How long have you known each other?” She cocked her head to the side.

“Since September.”

“You never mentioned her.”

“You never asked.”

Sensing tension rising, her mother quickly cut the conversation short by stepping aside.

“You should go get ready. Guests will be here in about an hour.”

“Alright. Come on, Veronica.”

On their way upstairs, Heather only felt more queasy. She felt a sense of familiarity being back at home, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. It was like she was getting sucked back into her whole life, and suddenly she preferred being at Duke’s house and being ready to hide under the blanket at every waking moment each time somebody walked up the corridor.

“And Heather,” her mother spoke up again just as she took the first step on the stairs. She looked over to her as she hurried towards her, a brown envelope in her hand. She stopped herself from jittering in excitement; the prize she was looking for.

“Is this…?”

“Yes. I said I’d give it to you, didn’t I?” she said, handing it to her, but at first she didn’t let go. Staring at her sternly, she added, “I didn’t let you down, so don’t let me down either.”

Hearing that made Heather feel a hint of guilt, knowing that she couldn’t keep the promise that she replied with. Even if part of her hoped that maybe, she could.

After taking the cheque, she hurried upstairs and back into her room, which was near empty. A few of her belongings remained, which is why she hadn’t brought her fancy clothes. She had been so sure she’d be returning one day, and that bringing her valuables with her was pointless. Now, though, she hoped there was enough room in her bag for it all.

“Okay, you get ready, I’ll try and pack as much stuff as I can,” she instructed. Veronica nodded, immediately beginning to undress. Heather swiftly gathered the photos from her vanity, her left over clothes, or at least what she could fit in her bag, and other various items from her walls and surfaces. Her bag ended up being heavy and unable to close completely, but that was fine. She just needed something to carry her things.

By the time she turned back around, Veronica was half-dressed in her outfit, in just a bra and pants, which made Heather’s heart skip a beat. She was too distracted looking at her reflection to notice Heather sneak up behind her until her arms were already wrapped around her waist. Veronica froze up, her reflection blushing as she buried her face into the crook of her neck.

“You’re right, perfume smells much nicer,” she sighed, pressing herself up against her bare back. Veronica chuckled, a hand coming up to cup the side of her face.

“You’re gonna have to let me get ready,” Veronica said.

“I know.” She planted a kiss on her neck. “Thanks for coming with me, ‘Ronica.”

“It’s not a problem,” she said, turning around to face her. “And if you wanna back out at any point, just tell me.”

Heather smiled softly. “Thank you.” She leaned forward, hovering over her lips. “You too.”

They closed the gap between them, taking in one another through a soft, consoling kiss that felt like bliss and unity to Heather. She held her close by the hips, while Veronica’s arms were wrapped around the back of her neck. She felt so protected, a feeling she needed when standing under her old roof. And yet, kissing Veronica in her old room felt as though she was at home, of course, anything done in the sanctity of her bedroom brought her comfort.

Eventually Veronica parted, giving a snicker.

“I should get ready,” she whispered. “So should you.”

Heather rolled her eyes, but stepped away anyway to go and grab her own dress. While she wasn’t about to put in too much effort for her family, she thought she ought to look nice, so she picked out her black dress, the one with red bows accenting the neck and waist, and quickly got changed alongside Veronica. She would have worn fishnet tights with her dress like she usually did, but she decided plain black ones would be more formal and therefore appropriate.

“You know, you didn’t have to buy me a whole outfit just for one night,” Veronica stated, fixing her collar in the mirror. Heather stood up from securing the strap of her heels, sauntering over to her with a smirk.

“Who said you were only gonna wear this for one night? In fact, you  _ better _ wear that more than once.” She grabbed her collar and pulled her close. “You look incredibly handsome.”

Veronica’s cheeks grew darker. “You should wear this dress more often.” Her hand came up to play with the bow that held her dress up over her chest. It brought back memories that she had mixed feelings about; the first time they had sex wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows, but at the very least she had felt safe with her that night, and, well, the sex had been good too.

“Why? Because it’s easy to slip off?” she teased, hands on her collarbone. Veronica’s smile slithered on her lips in such a mischievous manner that drove Heather wild.

“Perhaps.”

They shared yet another kiss, distracting them both from the task at hand, before Heather reluctantly parted from her again to pull Veronica to her vanity to get her makeup and hair done, before doing her own. Soon enough they were dolled up, Veronica wearing the darkest accents Heather could find, with purple lipstick and smokey eyeshadow peeking out from her eyelashes. Nothing too crazy, just something different to what her family expected from the women in this house. Not that Veronica was a woman, but, gender conformity and all that.

“Perfect,” Heather said with a grin, taking her hand that she knew she wouldn’t hold for very long. “Come on, I better go introduce you to my father before he complains.”

“Your father scares me,” Veronica commented as she was guided out of her room. “He’s like a statue.”

“Yeah, I think that’s why my walls are so secure and I’m so emotionless.”

“Or it’s the trauma.”

“Or it’s the trauma  _ from _ my dad being so emotionless.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Veronica’s tone was humorous, making Heather let out a snicker before they reached the bottom of the staircase, where she then led her to the living room. It had a different than usual layout, with more chairs pulled out and placed in groups around the room so that no one but the children would have to sit on the floor, unlike the party guests that Heather would have over. As expected, only her father was in here standing by the window on a lookout for the first few guests to arrive, while her mother in the kitchen by the sounds of pans clattering through the walls. Slowly walking towards him, feeling nervous as she did so, Heather cleared her throat. Her father slowly turned his head.

“Um, hi, father,” she murmured, gesturing for Veronica to come forward. It was weird, having a conversation with him, since the last time they had properly spoken he had nearly crushed her poor little cockroach to death. “I thought you’d like to meet Veronica.”

Her father glanced at Veronica, looking her up and down with a stone cold gaze.

“We’ve met. It’s okay.”

“I know, but, um…” Heather tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid or redundant, but nothing came to mind. “Alright.”

She silently led Veronica to two chairs in the far corner of the room, far away from her father. She didn’t speak to Veronica the entire time, though the room was thick with silence and awkwardness, and luckily Veronica got the hint and didn’t prompt her to speak. Something about being the only voice, or the main voice heard by her father made her feel anxious, and so she kept her mouth shut. She did so for about ten long, uncomfortable minutes until her father stepped away from the window.

“Your aunt just pulled up,” he told her, not even looking her way. “Go turn a record on please, Heather.”

“Okay.”

While her father went to the door, she hurried into the room connected to the living room to grab a record from one of the shelves. She chose ABBA, of course, it was one of her favourites, and while she preferred to use stereos for music these days, admittedly records had a certain charm to them. She knew why they’d gone through the effort to pull the record player out at all; her grandmother would never stop complaining if they used the more modern technology to do anything, especially on her birthday.

“Hi, hi, good to see you, darling,” she heard her father say from the hallway, and she groaned.

“Ah, shit, not my dad’s sister,” Heather muttered upon hearing her father say ‘darling’ to the only other woman he would say it to other than her mother. Not his own sister, certainly. Veronica watched her get the record going in confusion.

“Why’s that an ‘oh shit’?” she asked, and just as she did, a shrill, cracking male voice rang through the room, completely overpowering the sound of ABBA playing, which only added to her annoyance.

“Heather! Long time no see!” Her cousin’s voice belted out like an untrained chihuahua. She straightened herself up, took a deep breath, and put on a practiced smile before turning to face him.

“ _ Hi, _ Monty,” she said through gritted teeth. Despite the polite attitude, she didn’t care too much if Monty could see through it. It’s not like she hadn’t let it crumble and had a full blown screeching match with him back when she was fifteen and he was fourteen. Monty knew what her feelings towards him were, and she knew what he thought about her too. “You’ve not gotten taller at all.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” he huffed. It was then Heather noticed that somebody else was accompanying him; a pretty girl with long blonde hair, looking like it had been curled by a professional. Her dress was white and flowy, making her look angelic next to Monty, who hadn’t gone through much effort to look good. He tucked his polka-dotted shirt into his belt and threw a nice blazer on that likely belonged to his dad, with how much longer his sleeves were compared to his arms, and that was pretty much it. She eyed the girl curiously.

“Who’s this?”

“Oh! This-” he hooked his arm around the girl’s and tugged her closer, “-is my girlfriend, Vanessa.”

A burning sense of jealousy ran through her. She would forever resent how her cousins could all bring their partners and proudly show them off to every family member they see, meanwhile she couldn’t even hold Veronica’s hand.

“Vanessa, this is Heather,” he continued. “She’s the family black sheep, as you know.”

She rolled her eyes at him. She knew it was true, but it still hurt to hear. Vanessa just nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. Heather gave a curt nod.

“You too,” she grunted. “How long have you two been a thing?”

“Since Valentine’s,” Monty said in a proud tone. Heather stared at him.

“So… two weeks.”

“Listen, that’s more weeks than I can say about you.”

“That’s not true. I’ve dated boys for longer than that.”  _ And I have three partners, dipshit. _

“Since when?”

“Remember Peter?”

“Who?”

Heather pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I brought him to grandma’s last birthday.”

“Uhh…”

“Okay. Doesn’t matter. I broke up with him after a month anyway.”

Monty snorted. “Of course you did.” He looked around the room expectantly. “Anyway, I would have thought you’d bring another boy. It was just Valentine’s, didn’t anyone ask you out? I thought you were meant to be the queen bee.”

Heather did actually stop to think why nobody had asked her out this year, and she realised it was because she had spent her Valentine’s in her room, drinking wine with Duke and internally sobbing about her bad life decisions. That didn’t sound very cool though, so she decided to tell a half-truth while checking her nails.

“Oh, couldn’t this year. I got suspended.”

“Suspended? Why?”

“I punched our school counsellor,” she said. “She doesn’t work there anymore.”

“Oh my goodness,” Vanessa said, a hand on her chest. “Why would you do that?”

“She was a bitch.”

Vanessa seemed taken aback by her bluntness, maybe even a little disgusted. It took one glance at the crucifix necklace to figure out why.

“Yeah, uh, she’s just like that,” Monty said, patting Vanessa’s shoulder. It was likely meant to be soothing, but it came off as incredibly condescending. “She’s been like that ever since she became an atheist.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “I never said I was an atheist. I just stopped going to church.”

“Aren’t you an atheist though?” Heather had to be honest, she had forgotten that Veronica was still standing behind her, she’d been so caught up with one-upping Monty. She glanced over her shoulder.

“I keep it at agnostic to keep their hopes up.”

Monty shot Veronica a weird look.

“Who’s that?”

“Hm? Oh, how rude of me. This is Veronica.” Veronica stepped forward, standing right next to her, shoulders touching. “Veronica, this is Monty, my cousin.”

“Hello.” Veronica gave a wave. Monty tilted his head.

“You couldn’t bring a boy so you brought a friend?”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“What happened to the other one?”

“Huh?”

“The blonde one?”

“Heather, you mean?”

“Yeah, the one with your name.”

“You can just say ‘Heather’, I’ll know who you mean.”

“But don’t you have another friend called Heather?” Monty laughed. “What kind of narcissist does it take to only have friends who have your name?”

Heather groaned. “Well, here you go. A friend  _ not _ called Heather.”

“Hey, you two!”

A woman’s voice - her aunt and Monty’s mother, to be exact, called over to them. To her surprise, more family members had already arrived, including the guest of honor.

“Quit yapping and come and say hello to your grandmother.”

“Uh oh, here we go,” Monty grumbled under his breath, linking his arm with Vanessa’s. “Just say yes or no answers, she’ll just interrupt you if you speak in sentences.”

Heather leaned into Veronica’s ear. “That’s actually good advice. Though, she likely won’t talk to you since you’re not my  _ boyfriend. _ ”

“That’s fine by me.”

She led Veronica over to the group by the sofa, as did Monty with Vanessa, where her mother, father, aunt and uncle were gathered, talking amongst themselves. On the sofa was an old woman - her grandmother, now eighty years old.

“Hi, granny,” Monty was the first one to speak up as they circled the couch to face her. “Happy birthday.”

“Oh, thank you, Monty,” the old woman croaked, gesturing for him to lean forward. He obeyed, though she could tell it was reluctant, so she could plant a kiss on either cheek. “Do you know where Heather is? The girl lives here and I haven’t seen her yet.”

Heather frowned, waving her hands around.

“Grandma, I’m right here.”

She turned towards her and squinted at her suspiciously, holding up her monocle to her eye before recognition flashed in her old gaze. “Heather, love, you look different!”

“I know.”

“Your hair’s shorter! Why did you cut your beautiful hair?”

“Wait, your hair’s shorter?” Monty gasped, staring at her. Heather rolled her eyes at him, knowing full well he noticed and was just too chicken to say anything.

“I wanted a change,” she lied. She never understood why old women would always say things like that, not when they all tended to have much shorter hair than she did right now.

“Well, give us a kiss. Come on, I haven’t seen you in ages.” She gestured for her to come forward, and Heather reluctantly did so, earning herself two kisses on the cheek. After she stepped backwards, her grandmother’s cane tapped Veronica’s ankle. “So is this your new girlfriend, Monty?”

“No! She’s mine,” Heather barked, grabbing Veronica’s arm, before quickly correcting herself. “My- my  _ friend. _ ”

“ _ This _ is my girlfriend,” Monty said, pulling Vanessa into sight. It made Heather uncomfortable how she was being shown off like a shiny object, but at least she seemed to be enjoying the attention. That was generally how women were treated in this family.

Her grandmother went on to ask Vanessa one question after another, all to which she replied with one word answers. As that went on, Veronica leaned into Heather’s ear and whispered,

“I’m  _ yours, _ huh?” she said with a smirk. Heather elbowed her, trying not to snicker.

“Shut up. Like I’d let Monty get his hands on you.”

“I’m charmed.”

As they laughed amongst themselves, her grandmother surprised them both by cutting in.

“And what’s your name?”

“Hm? Me?” Veronica blinked. “Veronica.”

“I see. Heather, you brought someone new.”

“Yeah, I did,” she said. “Heather and Heather couldn’t make it.”

“I see. So how are you, Veronica?”

“I’m good, thanks,” she replied.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Hm? Me? No, no.”

“That’s a surprise. You’re clearly a pretty young woman. You’d look even better in a dress.”

Heather noticed Veronica’s smile falter slightly, which she took as a sign to get out of this situation.

“Actually, I bought the suit for her,” Heather corrected, shuffling a little closer to her. “I think she looks great in it.”

It made Veronica smile in a flattered manner, which was enough for Heather, so when her grandmother eyed her disapprovingly, or her mother shot a glare in her direction, she cared very little.

“Heather, don’t argue with your grandmother,” her mother scolded. Heather rolled her eyes.

“I wasn’t,” she grumbled.

“How’s school been, Heather?” her grandmother spoke up again. “Your grades been any better? Got any boyfriends to bring home?”

“No, grandmother, I-”

“Heather got  _ suspended, _ ” Monty declared. Heather pinched the bridge of her nose, while her grandmother gasped in dismay.

“You got suspended? Whatever for? What did you do this time?”

“I-”

“She punched a teacher,” Monty replied, shooting a mischievous look in her direction. She shot him a dirty one right back.

“Heather! That’s something rowdy little boys do in first grade, not lady-like girls like yourself,” her grandmother chided, tutting. Though the woman was tiny and frail and was squinting as she looked up from her from the couch, she always knew how to make Heather feel small. “I keep telling you to learn some manners. When will you ever learn? You’re eighteen now.”

“No I’m not? My birthday’s in June.”

“Close enough.”

She was about to bite back a passive aggressive reply, when somebody grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. It was a little too close to her wrist, which made her flinch, but upon seeing her mother had stepped in to tell her off for something, from the looks of her tired expression.

“Heather, your father and I would appreciate it  _ dearly _ if you didn’t talk about  _ that _ tonight, okay?”

Heather shrugged. “It was Monty who told her, not me.”

“You told him about it though, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but we always-”

“Don’t embarrass us, Heather,” she warned. “I know you and Monty like to get on one another’s nerves, but no talking about all the trouble you’ve been in recently, you hear me?”

Heather held her cold glare for a few long moments, just to keep her on her toes.

“Sure,” she eventually replied through gritted teeth. “I should go say hi to my younger cousins.”

“Mhmm. You do that.”

Heather backed away from her mother slowly, keeping her eyes locked on her the whole time, as if waiting for her to pounce on her again, until she was standing back by Veronica’s side.

“Come on, Veronica,” she said, gesturing for her to follow without an explanation. “Happy birthday, grandma. See you in a bit.”

Her grandmother didn’t acknowledge her departure, instead just said as she left,

“Does anyone know if Heather’s going to church again?”

That just made her speed up, pulling Veronica out of the room and hurrying to where she knew the children were all left to play amongst themselves.

“You okay?” Veronica asked.

“Doing a lot better than I usually am,” Heather grunted. “Besides, it’ll all be worth it in the end, won’t it?”

Veronica grinned at her.

“Of course it will.”

* * *

Veronica was led to a room she wasn’t sure if she had been in before, at least not for very long. Inside she could hear the sounds of children talking; a little daunting, since she very rarely had a need to interact with children. She had no younger family members as well as no interest in children in general, and she wasn’t entirely sure why Heather was going out of her way to find the younger members of the family anyway, but she didn’t question it. Heather opened the door and sure enough, there were several children gathered around, some paper, scissors and glue scattered on the coffee table and floor. As soon as they saw the door open, though, all their attention was drawn towards the two of them, specifically Heather.

“Heather!” a young girl with blonde hair exclaimed, no older than nine years old.

“Yay! Heather!” An even younger boy with curly brown hair stood up, waving his arms around excitedly.

“Heather’s here! Heather’s here!” Another girl bounced up and down - she looked like the oldest out of the bunch. There was one more child - another boy, who didn’t react to Heather’s presence, but that may be because he looked about five years old and was staring at the two of them cluelessly. Veronica watched as all three children darted over to Heather, all fighting to give her the biggest hug.

“Hey, hey, I’ve missed you all too,” Heather chuckled, this time her tone completely genuine. Veronica could only watch in fascination. “Hi, Cooper!” She waved at the boy who hadn’t stood up. He just blinked at her mindlessly, mirroring her gesture somewhat, before going back to hitting his card with a marker.

“He’s still not a talker,” the oldest huffed. Heather placed a hand on her head.

“He’ll talk in his own time, don’t worry about it.” She stepped backwards. “Anyway, I should introduce all of you to Veronica.”

Veronica awkwardly waved, giving the kids a smile.

“Hey. I’m Veronica.”

The three of them waved back.

“Hi Veronica!” the oldest spoke again.

“Veronica, this is Cindy-” Heather pointed to the oldest, “-Iris-” she pointed to the younger blonde, “and Parker,” she pointed to the slightly younger boy. “Parker’s a bit shy, Iris could tell you a hundred weird, slightly concerning facts, and Cindy’s a little shit.”

“Hey! You always say that I’m like you were when you were a kid,” Cindy whined, crossing her arms and giving a pout that reminded Veronica very heavily of Chandler.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Hey, your hair is shorter!” Parker exclaimed, pointing to Heather’s shoulder-length hair.

“It is.”

“It looks pretty!” Cindy chirped.

“Thank you!” Heather replied.

“Your hand’s hurt.” Iris poked her bandaged palm with a frown.

“Aw, who wants to hear the story behind it?” Heather said with a grin. Veronica grew alert, knowing full well that she couldn’t tell such young kids about what had happened-

“Me!” all three of them cheered, following her to the couch. She sat down with them gathered around her, so Veronica hesitantly followed and leaned against the arm of the couch.

“Well, long story short, a guy in my school was whistling at me-”

“Like, a wolf-whistle?” Cindy asked.

“Yeah, the type where someone tries to get your attention, but  _ romantically. _ ”

“ _ Ewww! _ ” All of them pulled faces of disgust.

“Good, that’s the reaction you  _ should _ have. Never let people embarrass you like that.” She patted Iris on the head. “But anyway, the guy wolf-whistled at me, and I said, hey, fuck off,” the three of them laughed at her cursing, “but he didn’t. So when a guy doesn’t leave me alone, I’m going to do something about it. And so I walked up to him and kicked him in the…  _ groin _ area.”

Again, the three of them laughed, and Veronica was beginning to realise that Heather was  _ that _ family member, who was the fun one, the bad influence that made the kids giggle behind their parents’ back with innuendos and inappropriate jokes.

“Unfortunately he ended up pushing me, and I fell over, so I landed on a shard of glass that was sitting on the floor.”

“Owie…” Cindy winced.

“It was pretty painful. But it was worth it. But enough about me. What about all of you? How’s school? Cindy, are you looking forward to middle school?”

“Yeah! Candace and Celia from school are going to the same one as me.”

“That’s great news - not being alone always makes things easier.” She turned to Iris and Parker. “What about you?”

Veronica listened to the two of them talk about school, their friends, their classwork. Heather listened with interest, it was unclear if it was a show she was putting on for them or if she was genuinely interested in what they had to say. When Parker complained about how hard his math homework was, Heather told him to not worry about it, that the answers would come to him soon. Veronica was amazed; she had never thought Heather Chandler would be good with kids. She didn’t know why, she just figured that she’d find them annoying or avoid them or even be mean. Instead, she went out of her way to build a relationship with them, to make them feel welcome and wanted. Her mind wandered to places that she knew she probably shouldn’t think about, not so early in their relationship, but she couldn’t help but think about what a good mother she might be.

“She did  _ not, _ ” Heather gasped in response to a story Iris had told about some drama that had gone down between two rival friend groups in her school. “Now that’s worthy of some petty revenge, I think.”

“Heather! Don’t teach the kids about petty revenge!” Veronica told her. Heather pulled tongues at her in response.

“I will teach the kids how to be petty as much as I like,” she replied.

“You’re gonna get them suspended.”

“I would never tell them to  _ actually _ kick kids over in the school yard.”

“Heather!”

“Okay, okay, I mean that genuinely,” Heather clarified, albeit reluctantly. “I’m all about defending yourselves from other kids, but none of you are old enough to comprehend the nuances of life and what not quite yet, so it’s incredibly difficult to judge whether the mean thing you do is justified or just you being mean.”

“When will we be old enough?” Parker asked.

“Still haven’t figured that out.” She then glanced over to Cooper, who was still busy with his arts and crafts. “Is Cooper okay over there?”

“Oh, he just does that,” Iris said. “He never really talks.”

“Of course he doesn’t. He’s three.” She stood up from the couch and made her way over to him, kneeling on the floor. “Hey there, little dude. What you making?”

Both Iris and Parker followed Heather, but Cindy stayed on the couch, her attention suddenly turning towards Veronica. She wasn’t sure what to do about a child staring at her. Should she say hi? Should she be saying anything?

“So who are you, exactly?” Cindy ended up speaking first. She narrowed her eyes at her, like she didn’t trust her.

“Me? I told you my name, right? I’m Veronica.”

“I know  _ that, _ I mean, why are you here?” She crawled along the couch, sitting closer to her. “Heather usually brings Fun Heather or Scary Heather with her.”

Veronica snickered. “Which Heather’s which?”

“Uh…”

“Wait, let me guess. Blonde Heather’s the fun one, black-haired Heather’s the scary one.” She tilted her head. “You think Heather’s scary? You look about as tall as her.”

“Well… she’s short, but I never know what she’s thinking! I don’t think she likes me.”

“She  _ does _ like you, Cindy,” Heather called from across the room. “She’s just not great with kids.”

“That means  _ you’re _ the scary one, then,” Veronica said. Cindy gasped.

“I’m  _ scary? _ ”

“I could see you being scary. You already remind me of your cousin.” She glanced at Cindy’s red hair, and the freckles scattered along her nose. Her eyes were green, though, and her face was a lot more round than Heather’s.

“You think Heather’s scary?”

“Not anymore, but I used to. Before we became friends.” She glanced over to her girlfriend. “Now I know she’s just a sap who likes to look at people funny.”

“ _ Excuse _ me?” Heather shot a glare in Veronica’s way, while Cindy just giggled.

“Have you been to one of these before?” Cindy asked.

“As in, one of these family gatherings? Nope.”

“So Veronica’s never been to Family Music Time!” Cindy said to Heather/

“Is that what you’re calling it now?” Heather asked, standing up from the floor, brushing her clothes down.

“What  _ is _ Family Music Time?” Veronica asked. Heather groaned.

“This dumb thing my family likes to do before we eat. One of us - and by that I mean  _ me _ \- sits down in this room and plays or sings a song.”

“Last time you didn’t do it! Monty did,” Parker pointed out.

“Yeah, and I remembered why it’s usually me who does it on his fifth voice crack.”

The children giggled, and Veronica looked at her with intrigue.

“So, what you’re saying is you might sing later today?”

“I don’t really  _ sing, _ I prefer to play the piano.” She shuffled towards the grand piano and opened it up to press a note on the keyboard.

“You play the piano?”

“Didn’t I ever tell you?”

“I never told you I play guitar.”

Heather’s eyes brightened a little. “If only we had a guitar, I’d let you play with me.”

“What are you gonna play, Heather!” Cindy bounced on the couch. Her eyes were sparkling with admiration, and the thought of Heather being some sort of role model to a child was heart warming for Veronica to see.

“Well, I don’t know for sure if I’m playing yet, but if I am, then I’m not spoiling it.” She tapped a few more notes on the piano, forming a two-second long melody. “But it’ll be one you all know.”

“How do you play piano, Heather?” Parker asked, reach up to press a few notes of his own. Iris gave him a funny look.

“Pianos are a  _ girls _ instrument, Parker.”

Veronica grew alert at the statement, but said nothing. She felt rude telling off a child she had only known for about fifteen minutes.

“Hey, who said that, Iris?” Heather asked.

“Mommy did.”

“Mommy’s wrong. See this guy up here?” She reached to the top of the piano, grabbing a mini statue of Beethoven. “He’s one of the most famous pianists in the world. Parker can play piano or violin or the flute if he wants. Music doesn’t care what gender you are, okay?”

Iris nodded. “Sorry, Heather.”

“It’s not your fault. Our parents just tell us stupid things.” She pulled out the pianist chair and sat down, shuffling to the edge to leave room for Parker. She patted the space next to her. “Come on, I’ll show you the basics.”

Veronica watched Heather go through all the keys on the piano, telling him how the ‘D’ key looked like a donkey because of the positioning of the black keys against the white, and how it’s how she remembered what keys were what. She only taught him simple rhythms, but he picked them up quickly, playing them over and over again, long after Heather stood up and left him to go and sit with Veronica. Veronica shuffled closer, grinning.

“You never told me you were a pianist,” Veronica said. Heather shrugged.

“Didn’t think you’d be interested in it.”

“I’m interested in everything about you.”

Heather fluttered her lashes, her cheeks growing darker.

“Shut the hell up,” she replied, shoving Veronica away, while she just laughed. While doing so, the door to the room opened, and in peeked Heather’s mother.

“Heather, bring the kids in,” she told her. “Your grandmother hasn’t seen them all yet.”

“Awww,” Parker whined. “But I’m learning how to play the piano!”

“You can learn some other time. Come on, it’s your grandma’s birthday. Don’t be rude.”

Heather sighed. “Alright. We’re coming, mom.”

Once she left, leaving the door open for them, Heather stood up and gestured for the kids to follow, as well as Veronica.

“Don’t forget your nephew, Iris.” She pointed at Cooper, who was still glueing paper together. Once Iris picked him up onto his feet. As they walked back into the main room, Veronica whispered to Heather,

“So, can you at least tell  _ me _ what you plan on playing?”

Heather chuckled.

“Nope. It’s still a surprise.”

* * *

After a long get-together in the living room with the entire family, Veronica came to realise something: Heather’s family was  _ big. _ She had a total of eight cousins present, two aunts, one uncle, then one uncle-in-law and two aunts-in-law. Then there were all the other faces that Veronica assumed were godparents or family friends or spouses to family members. When Veronica asked about it, Heather reminded her that her family was Catholic, and that godparents played a role in a child’s baptism when they were a baby or something like that.

The two of them were able to stay out of their family’s way without too much interaction. Some of Heather’s older cousins came and spoke to her for a bit, but they never seemed to be all that interested in what she had to say, and simply doing it because not saying hello to every family member here was a rude thing to do. Not many people spoke to Veronica, but that was for the best. It already sucked that Heather had to stick to just using ‘she’ when referring to her rather than switching around, and the talk she had shared with her grandmother before had made her uncomfortable enough.

It made Veronica think back to that night, when Heather had asked Veronica to walk with her to escape her family. Even though there was the silver lining of her younger cousins, minus Monty, they were incredibly stressful and had incredibly high standards. Monty, though having been an asshole, had been right before, about Heather being the black sheep. Because in looking at the family talk, they all seemed to get along just fine, the unity strong and yet somehow so, so fake. Everything just seemed so planned, so orderly, and Veronica knew it was on purpose, or Heather would be at the centre of attention right now.

Something Veronica had found interesting to watch as they sat in the corner of the room, also, was Heather’s mother. She was never at the centre it all, but instead looked as if she was keeping the peace left and right, making sure everything was perfect, up to standard. Not even  _ her _ standard, since she seemed so stressed half the time. If the kids got too loud, she’d scold them and remind them it was their grandmother’s party, not theirs. If Monty got too handsy with his girlfriend, she’d tell him that it was disrespectful. Sometimes her mother, or, Heather’s grandmother, would tell her to go and fix something minor like whatever song was playing, or to simply fetch her a third wine glass. Veronica would have felt bad for her, had she not continuously remembered the awful things she had done to Heather.

Eventually the people-watching session came to an end, and Heather’s mother clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. Surprisingly, it didn’t take much to silence the terribly busy room.

“Alright, dinner will be ready shortly, so you all know what that means,” she announced. “To the music room we go.”

The family seemed genuinely excited for this tradition, which was nice at least. Heather and Veronica were the last ones out, with her mother lingering by the door, seemingly waiting for Heather.

“Can you play tonight?” she asked.

“I already figured I was, don’t worry,” Heather replied, hurrying past her. They stepped back inside the room they had sat in before, the older adults all sitting on couches while the younger members either managed to snag one of the chairs from the table, found an alternative surface such as a foot rest or chest, or they had to sit on the floor with the kids. Veronica ended up being unsure where to sit, her anxiety acting up a little at the thought of being left alone with anyone from this family, since Heather was taking a seat at the piano. Then, like a blessing sent down from Heaven, she saw Cindy waving to her from the far side of the room. Next to her was a space on the hard-wood floor, where she was gesturing to. Veronica hurried over and sat down next to her.

“You’re not going to sit on the rug?” Veronica asked, nodding to the fluffy material that the rest of the kids were sitting on. Cindy shook her head.

“I can’t see Heather from there.”

Veronica smiled. “You like Heather a lot, don’t you?”

“She’s the only one here who knows how to have fun,” she huffed. “I guess my brother’s fun too, but lately he’s been so distracted with  _ Vanessa. _ ” She pulled a tongue. Veronica laughed.

“Do you not like Vanessa?”

“No. She’s all Monty cares about now.” She crossed her arms. “Besides, Heather’s always been more fun than him.”

“Heather is a lot of fun,” Veronica agreed.

“Do you like Heather?” Cindy asked.

Veronica smiled, looking over to Heather who was waiting patiently at the piano.

“I do,” she replied. “A lot.”

“Okay,” Heather’s mother spoke up. “Everyone settle down. What are you playing tonight, Heather?”

“One that everyone will know,” she said, twisting her whole body around to face everyone briefly. “And I’m actually singing this time. Feel free to join in with the chorus parts though.”

“How do we know when that is?” Monty called out.

“You’ll  _ know. _ ” Heather swiveled back around and was about to place her fingers on the first notes, but Monty interrupted again.

“Wait, you don’t even have a music sheet in front of you!”

Heather groaned in annoyance, and Veronica couldn’t help but be ticked off too.

“For the last time, I don’t  _ need _ music sheets.”

“They’ll do you good, Heather,” her father quipped dryly. Heather just stared ahead, eye twitching as she tried to compose herself. No one but her and Cindy could see, since everyone else was sitting directly behind her while the two of them were resting their backs against the wall.

“Do you want me to do this or not-?” Heather began to argue, only to be shot down by her mother.

“Okay, okay, relax. Heather, go ahead.”

Heather took a deep breath, clearing her throat slightly, before placing her hands on the keyboard. However, she didn’t press down. Instead, she began to sing in a soft, angelic sounding voice.

_ “Is this the real life? _

_ Is this just fantasy? _

_ Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.” _

Next to her, Cindy gasped, kicking her feet.

“I love this song!” she whispered excitedly. “Heather used to play it to me all the time.”

Cindy was then cut off by a harsh  _ “sshhh” _ by who Veronica was pretty sure was her mother. Cindy sank down slightly, flushed from embarrassment. Sympathetic, Veronica put a hand on her shoulder, which seemed to cheer her up. Though, she remained silent as Heather continued to sing, which admittedly Veronica preferred, because she had never heard Heather sing before, other than sometimes in the car with Heather and Heather. But never on her own, and never with a lot of heart.

It started out with her singing calmly, no underlying emotion, just a need to sound pleasant to the ear.

_ “Mama, just killed a man. _

_ Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he’s dead.” _

Then, at least to Veronica, something changed in her voice. Perhaps she was just getting the hang of singing in front of an audience, or perhaps some emotion was spilling out of her, interlacing itself with the lyrics.

_ “Mama, life had just begun, _

_ But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away.” _

Veronica had assumed it was on accident, until she sang the next line, where after her eyes flickered in the direction of where her mother sat, she squeezed them shut, as if taking the next deep breath pained her.

_ “Mama, ooh, _

_ Didn’t mean to make you cry. _

_ If I’m not back again this time tomorrow, _

_ Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters.” _

The way she pressed her keys were gentle, but Veronica could see from where she sat that her foot was less graceful in stepping on the pedal.

_ “Too late, my time has come. _

_ Sends shivers down my spine, body’s aching all the time.” _

Her eyes flashed away from the piano for a moment, in Veronica’s direction. It wasn’t towards her though, but instead towards Cindy, who was completely oblivious, who simply thought Heather was giving her a bit of attention.

_ “Goodbye, everybody, I’ve got to go. _

_ Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth.” _

Her eyes skimmed over Veronica before returning back to the piano.

_ “Mama, ooh, I don’t wanna die. _

_ I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all.” _

Veronica winced when she heard Heather’s voice crack. Most would see it as her voice just failing her, but Veronica knew it was anything but a mistake. She wondered if her mother had figured that out too, with how her gaze grew solemn for a brief moment, her arms hugging herself in a similar way Heather tended to do.

The long period of just the piano playing was strangely haunting. Veronica hadn’t realised how much  _ Bohemian Rhapsody _ needed the drums and the guitar, because without them, the song was slow, it lingered on the sober parts for a little too long, it made you sit there and think about the lyrics instead of wanting to dance and sing along with them. So even when Heather sped up the pace and allowed her family to sing the parts that she couldn’t sing alone, it was eerie. At least the crowd participation helped masked Heather’s true intentions, not that she needed to hide them all that well, because everyone in the room seemed to just see this as a fun family activity. Everyone but her mother, who was only mouthing the lyrics she was supposed to sing, and sometimes shifted uncomfortable on the arm rest she was sitting on.

_ “I’m just a poor boy, nobody loves me.” _

When Heather sang it, her sadness seemed gone, instead it was like she was laughing. Her lips were curled upwards, yet her brow was knitted.

_ “He’s just a poor boy from a poor family. _

_ Spare him his life from his monstrosity.” _

Heather scoffed silently as her family sang the words.

_ “Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?” _

_ “Bismillah, no, we will not let you go.” _

Veronica decided to join in just for one line.

_ “Let him go.” _

And there was one line that Veronica knew was supposed to be sung by everyone, but for some reason, perhaps religious reasons, Veronica couldn’t be sure, only Heather ended up singing it,

_ “Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me.” _

Occasionally a laugh would sneak into her voice as she sang. Not a happy laugh, but one that was spiteful, and it continued to happen as she continued,

_ “So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?” _

Her head dared to turn to look towards her parents. Not long enough for them to understand, but long enough for them to understand if they truly wanted to.

_ “So you think you can love me and leave me to die?” _

Her voice cracked again, this time with an underlying rage, as Veronica could see from the way she was practically sneering at the piano in front of her.

_ “Oh, baby, can’t do this to me baby. _

_ Just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here.” _

If Veronica had an electric guitar at hand, she might have had the power to make those words sound victorious, sound relieved. But with the piano alone, they sounded hopeless. Though she played with so much energy, kept the notes as loud and as upbeat as she could with quick, graceful fingers, there was still an emptiness to it. It was as if she had done it on purpose, like she had missed out an occasional major key but hit every minor one that she could.

_ “Nothing really matters. _

_ Anyone can see, _

_ Nothing really matters, _

_ Nothing really matters to me.” _

There was nothing to say there, Veronica just loved how beautiful Heather’s voice sounded. It was rich and bold and soothing and sounded wonderful against the soft keys of the piano. She wished she’d known about her talent sooner, because now she was going to think about how much time she wasted not listening to Heather sing.

“Thank you, Heather,” her mother eventually spoke, her reaction slightly delayed. “That was lovely, as useful.”

Heather shot her a smile that was too half-arsed to be genuine, before walking over to Veronica and Cindy, sitting down next to them. As the chatter in the room rose, Cindy kicked her feet enthusiastically.

“Heather! That was so cool!” she praised.

“It was. You’re very talented,” Veronica said with a smile. Heather smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinting red.

“Well, thanks. Can’t exactly embarrass myself in front of the whole family, now, can I?”

She and Veronica shared a knowing look, before being distracted by Cindy leaping onto her feet.

“Sorry, mom’s calling me over,” she said. “She probably wants me to help prep the table.”

“That’s alright. Don’t get too bored,” Heather told her before she hurried off. She then turned back to Veronica. “We have maybe twenty or so minutes before dinner will be ready.” She leaned forward a little. “Wanna fool around until then?”

Veronica raised a brow. “You sure you wanna do that?”

“What do we have to lose?”

* * *

“We’re literally in your house. Why don’t we just go up to your room?” Veronica asked as Heather closed the closet door.

“Because I have a tendency to hide in my room at these gatherings and so people tend to barge into my room looking for me,” Heather said. “Can’t have people seeing my empty room now, can we?”

They said nothing more as Heather pinned Veronica up against the wall, doing their best not to trip over anything on the floor, but in fairness, their closet was big and clean since it was barely used. Their mouths met, distracting each other with a kiss that would for sure require them both to fix their lipstick after this.

“Are you holding up okay?” Veronica mumbled against her lips. Heather rolled her eyes.

“I’m okay.” She leaned forward to kiss her again, but Veronica kept talking, as she tended to do in situations like these.

“It sounded like you meant every word of that song,” she said, gaze serious. “Are you sure you’re okay? With everything?”

Heather hesitated. As the night was drawing closer and closer to an end, admittedly what was once a burst of confidence formed out of pure spite was starting to feel like a sickly weight in her stomach.

“I didn’t mean  _ every _ word,” she said. “I have yet to kill a man.”

“ _ Yet? _ ”

“With the amount of shitty dudes I’ve met, I wouldn’t put it past me.”

Veronica chuckled. “I’ll help you with a cover-up story if you do.” Her hands ran down Heather’s sides, stopping at her hips. “But, really, if you’re not feeling good about this, we don’t have to go through with it.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“I mean it, Heather. We’ll be sitting at the dinner table soon, you need to be sure you want to do this.” Her brows knitted. “There’s no shame in backing out.”

Heather frowned bitterly.

“There’s shame in staying, though.” She sighed, resting her head on Veronica’s shoulder, holding her close. “You’re right, I meant what I sang. I really do have to get out of here. I have a place somewhere else now, and not just hopping from one friend’s house to another. Mac spoke to her dad, she said I can stay there for as long as I need. I’m safe out there - what do I have in here?” Her nails curled into Veronica’s clothes. “They deserve what’s coming.”

_ Most of them, anyway. _ Part of the reason Heather was beginning to grow anxious was the thought of seeing her younger cousin’s reactions. She knew they wouldn’t be good, they hadn’t been taught any better. And though it wasn’t their fault, it would still hurt, and what would come afterwards was going to hurt even more. It was the one thing holding her back from her plan.

“You’re right, they do,” Veronica murmured, holding her close. Heather could have melted in her grip, feeling safer than ever. She lifted her head off of her shoulder and kissed her again, feeling her fears slowly melt away, her thoughts beginning to whisper that everything would be fine in Veronica’s voice, that-

“In here, no one ever comes in here.”

The door to the closet opened faster than Heather could react, and by the time Heather had turned around to face Monty, dragging Vanessa in the closet, likely for similar reasons Heather had done with Veronica, it was too late. The light from the hallway outside shed onto them, revealing their particularly intimate position. All four of them were frozen in place, with Heather and Monty both staring at each other, mouths agape.

“I-” Monty’s eyes darted back and forth between them, slowly processing what he was looking at. Then, he slowly began backing away.

“Monty-” Heather warned, stepping towards him. As soon as she moved, he made a break for it. Her adrenaline kicked in, and she pushed back Vanessa as if she were a frail little freshman and sprinted after Monty all the way down the hallway. She may have been in heels, but she was  _ far _ too determined to not let him ruin anything to let that slow her down. Like a cat chasing after a rabbit, she pounced and only just managed to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him backwards with a choked sound escaping him before he hit the ground. She circled him before standing right over him, glaring at him darkly.

“You’re not going to say  _ shit. _ ”

“But- you- you’re-”

“Gay? A lesbo? A dyke? Give me a break.” She crouched over, gazing down at him like a helpless mouse. “I’ll cut to the chase and strike you a deal. You can out me to the whole family, tell your mom, tell  _ my _ mom, tell whoever you want what you saw. Hell, you can tell them that I’m confirming it. But you  _ don’t _ do it tonight.”

“And why  _ shouldn’t _ I?” he snapped, but when he was lying flat on the floor, it didn’t look all that threatening.

“Because it’s gram-gram’s birthday, and I don’t think her old-fashioned Catholic heart could take it.”

Monty frowned, considering it.

“Don’t ruin tonight for her, Monty. Or for  _ anyone. _ Yeah, they’ll get mad at me, but they’ll get mad at you too. Do it tomorrow, when everything’s over? Then you’ll be fine.”

Monty looked at her suspiciously, sitting up, “Why are you letting me do this?”

Heather shrugged. “I know you’re going to tell them anyway. I might as well just save tonight from falling apart before things go down the drain.”

Monty hummed in thought, before sighing.

“Alright. Fine.”

“Thank you.” She held out a hand to help him up, but he flinched away from it, as if she were diseased. That made sense. Her sexuality wouldn’t be viewed as anything else.

“I’m not going to pass on anything to you,” Heather grunted.

“Yeah, okay,” Monty muttered, backing away from her. They returned to the closet, where Heather had left Veronica. Vanessa lingered close by, keeping a good distance away from Veronica.

“Don’t mention anything, Vanessa,” Monty said, grabbing her hand. “I’ll sort this tomorrow.”

Heather eyed him dangerously as he hurried away from them both.

“I’m sure you will,” she huffed, before letting out a big sigh of relief. “God, that was close.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him to wait until the family gathering was over,” she said. Veronica nodded slowly.

“Smart.”

“I know.” She looked at her watch. They still had roughly ten minutes to go, but for once, Heather figured that distracting herself with sexual intimacy wasn’t going to help her situation all that much. Taking a moment to breathe would likely benefit her a lot better. And so that’s what they did, they sat down in the quiet hallway, on the carpet. They didn’t talk, but Veronica being next to her was enough for Heather to remind herself why she wanted to do this at all.

Time passed slowly, and yet far too quickly, because before she knew it, the sound of her mother ringing that dumb little dinner bell they had could be heard a few rooms down. She could feel her stomach churning as they made their way down to the dining hall, but when Veronica brushed her shoulder, she let her tense muscles relax.

“You’ll be fine,” Veronica whispered. “We can leave as soon as it’s over.”

“Yeah,” Heather said with a half-smile. “We can.”

The room had two tables in it - one for the kids, the other for all the adults. It was incredibly crowded, with chairs that didn’t belong at the dining table surrounding it. Heather and Veronica sat down between Monty and Vanessa and Heather’s mother, who was at the head of the table, while her father was at the other end. Notably, Monty was trying to make as much distance between him and Veronica as possible. Heather rolled her eyes, and made a mouth zipping motion at him to remind him to stay quiet. He mouthed an irritated “yeah, yeah” in response.

At the centre of the table there were several platters of food for everyone to pick from, and while it all smelled delicious, Heather knew she couldn’t eat much of it. Still, to distract herself, she reached out to get a spoonful of stuffing for her plate, only for her hand to be pushed away by her mother.

“We need to say  _ Grace, _ Heather,” she scolded.

“ _ Yeah, _ Heather,” Monty quipped, more bitterly than usual. “Maybe  _ you _ should say Grace.”

She scowled at him. “Monty-”

“Heather, you haven’t said Grace in ages!” her grandmother suddenly chided. She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t like saying Grace.”

“Why ever not? It’s important to give thanks to God for this lovely food.”

“But mom made the food,” she shot back. “Thank  _ her. _ ”

“Heather,” her mother rubbed her temples, averting her gaze from the rest of the family. “Just say Grace.”

“Okay.  _ Grace. _ There, I said it.”

“Stop joking around-”

“I’m agnostic, mother. You know this. If it comes from my mouth, it won’t be genuine.”

An uncomfortable silence fell on the table, minus the occasional clearing of a throat, before her father let out a loud, disapproving sigh that made her shudder before he clasped his hands together.

“Monty, say Grace,” he said. With that, the family all bowed their heads and closed their eyes as Monty began to say a prayer, thanking God for the food, while she and Veronica’s eyes remained open.

“I would like to thank God for this wonderful food we’re about to eat…” Monty spoke, and as he did so, Heather shot a smirk to Veronica, forming a V shape around her mouth and pulling tongues for just a second. Veronica failed to hold in a snicker, which caught the attention of everyone around the table. They all stared at her, offended, and Veronica quickly tried to rectify herself by faking a sneeze.

“Oh, God, sorry,” she said. “Carry on.”

“Aren’t you saying Grace either, Veronica?” her grandmother then asked, squinting at her. Veronica grimaced.

“Well, uh, no. I’m Jewish, so that wouldn’t be very genuine of me.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Secular Jewish, but still.”

There was a brief pause around the dinner table, with a few family members exchanging weird looks with one another, before they returned to bowing their heads to finish off Monty’s prayer. Veronica frowned at Heather, and once the prayer was finished and chatter started up again, she leaned over and whispered,

“I sense some vague antisemitism at the table.”

Heather winced. “Do you need to leave?”

“No, it’s fine. Just, um, uh oh? Not good.” She reached out to grab some food of her own, as did Heather.

“So, wait, do you like, follow a kosher diet?” she asked.

“Not super strictly. My mom does, but she never really pushed it on me. These days I tend to just avoid certain meats.”

“Which are?”

“Pork, rabbit, horse, things like that. And to be honest, I tend to avoid meat overall anyway. I don’t like not knowing if the animal suffered or not before it was killed.”

“Fair. Um, do you need to avoid anything here then?” She gestured to the several food options around the table.

“It’s fine! I’ll maneuver around anything I can’t eat.”

“Alright.” Heather managed to get a fair bit of food on her plate. Veronica less so, but she likely didn’t mind.

Conversation wasn’t dry, but it certainly felt like it. Questions about work and promotions and church friends and book clubs were tossed around, Heather felt incredibly bored listening to it all. When her legs began to sway under the table, she accidentally kicked her mother once or twice, which earned her a scolding. It only brought Heather’s plan closer to the tip of her tongue.

Heather had finished half of her meal when the conversation suddenly shifted.

“So, Veronica,” her grandmother’s voice caught both of their attention. “Have you considered giving your life to Jesus?”

Veronica paused, looking at Heather with a startled look. Heather just cringed, very openly.

“Oh my God,” she groaned, sinking into her hands.

“I, um, no? No… again, I am Jewish.”

“I know that! But honestly, there are so many people in my church who didn’t know God in their lives, and after they were prayed for, it changed their lives-”

“Grandma, you’re not going to convert Veronica!” Heather snapped, a little too loudly. It caught the entire family’s attention, but she was past the point of caring. “She doesn’t want to be converted. Leave it at that.”

Her grandmother huffed at her indignantly. “Oh, but Heather, there’s nothing wrong with sharing my faith with your friend. Perhaps you’d feel the same if you came back to church and stopped being so ashamed of your religion.”

“I’m not  _ ashamed _ of my religion, I think my religion is a lot more ashamed of  _ me. _ ” She could feel her mother’s impatient glare burning into her skull, but she refused to back down.

“Then it’s your responsibility to stop being shameful, Heather.”

“I’m not- I’m not  _ shameful, _ you all just  _ think _ I am.”

“Heather, settle down,” her mother warned, but the rage fueling her veins didn’t falter.

“Well, with that attitude, you’re never going to meet the right man,” her grandmother grunted, nodding to Monty. “Unlike your cousin. He’s brought home a wonderful girl. You’re a woman of Christ, aren’t you, dear?”

“Mhmm, I am, ma’am,” Vanessa said, nodding. Heather scoffed loudly.

“Like he’s gonna keep her for more than three weeks! At least I’ve been dating Veronica since Christmas!”

The room fell silent, cutlery dropped onto plates, even the kids’ table lacked noise. But Heather didn’t back down, she didn’t try to correct herself, she didn’t even keep her head low like she always did when she was so openly being looked down upon. For once, she kept her chin tilted up, her eyes flickering from one family member to the next. She saw so many different expressions; shame, disgust, shock, pity, even mourning, as if her not bringing home a boy was a loss. It hurt, it stung, but it was all expected. She hadn’t been sure how she would get to this point the entire night, but she knew she would let it spill. That had been the plan, it always had been.

She knew her family would never stop shaming her for being her, and she knew if she had told everyone what had happened between her and her parents, they would end up blaming it all on her. At least now, she had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Let them shame her, she’d figure out how to overcome that shame elsewhere.

The shame her parents would feel though… that would never fade. They would live the rest of their lives wondering where they went wrong, why their child was nothing like the child they wanted, or at the very least envisioned. They’d live with the same feeling of failure that they had made her feel her entire life.

“Oh, Heather has such an odd sense of humour,” her mother began to laugh nervously, an incredibly forced laugh, like she was desperate for Heather to laugh too. But Heather didn’t laugh. She just stared at her as if she were a fucking idiot.

“Me and Veronica’s anniversary is on the 25th of December. We’ve been dating for three months now.”

Her mother’s smile dropped into a look of horror, realising how serious she was being.

“You’re lying, Heather,” she said dangerously. “Stop making a fool of yourself.”

“I’m not. Veronica is my partner.” She looked to Veronica knowingly and earned a nod from her, before turning back to her mother. “And I say partner because they’re not even a girl, he’s non-binary.”

“She’s- what?”

“They’re across the spectrum, doesn’t stick to just one gender, uses any pronouns they like.”

“Heather, quit embarrassing yourself. No one believes you’re  _ actually _ dating her - quit playing a sick joke on us, it’s your grandmother’s  _ birthday, _ for Heaven’s sake.”

“I’m faking? Alright. Then how do I know that Veronica’s favourite colour is blue - specifically indigo, that his star sign is Capricorn, that she’s ambidextrous, that she can play guitar, that she’s always wanted to own a cat but her dad’s allergic, so she  _ really _ gets on with Heather’s cat, that they can’t draw for shit but could write for days, that his left eye is lazy so she needs a monocle to read, and it looks really fucking stupid but it’s also incredibly cute.” She took a breath to contain her overwhelming emotions, just for a few moments more. “And if you still don’t believe me, then just as Monty, he found us kissing in the closet.”

Everyone turned towards Monty, who shrank in his seat.

“Is this true?” her father asked in a threatening tone. Monty lowered his gaze, nodding frantically. A ripple of dismayed gasps and whispers ran across the table, but Heather listened to none of it. She didn’t even look at Veronica for reassurance, she just stared at her mother as she squeezed her eyes shut, pursed her lips tightly and took a deep breath, until finally she breathed out. Her eyes opened to a deploring glare.

“Out. Now.” She stood up and pointed towards the door. “I will speak with you  _ outside. _ ”

Heather said nothing but an uncaring huff, grabbing Veronica’s hand and tugging her along with her. It was only on that journey towards the door did she finally find a reason to regret her choice, and that was the confused, saddened looks on the children’s faces. Cindy in particular looked incredibly lost and hurt, unsure what was happening or how to feel. She wished she could stop to explain everything to her, but she knew her mother would scream at her if she didn’t leave the room, and so she kept walking. She stepped back into the living room, waiting for her mother to follow suit.

Veronica’s hand tightened around hers.

“Are you alright?”

Heather felt her heart pounding in her chest, whether it was from fear or anger or overall adrenaline she wasn’t sure, but she nodded.

“I did it.”

Veronica smiled at her. “You did. I’m proud of you.”

Heather huffed. “I’m glad someone is.”

Cutting them off was the door opening again, her mother stepping into the room. She slammed the door behind her and shot Heather an enraged glare.

“How could you?” she hissed, marching over to her. Heather tightened her hold on Veronica’s hand as she did so. “I trusted you. I was stupid enough to trust you tonight. I thought you’d do good, I thought you would have enough sense to not cause a scene. And I was wrong. I was  _ so _ wrong.” She dragged her fingers through her hair as she paced around frantically. “Why would you do this to us?”

“She didn’t do anything wrong-” Veronica tried to protest, stepping forward. Her mother snapped her gaze towards her ferociously.

“You be  _ quiet. _ ”

Heather calmly pulled Veronica away, keeping her close, but taking the reins.

“Monty can bring his partner. I can bring mine too.”

“We didn’t think your partner would be…” She stared at Veronica bitterly. “You’re not gay, Heather! You spend half your time slutting around with boys, there’s no way you can be so sure that-”

“Oh,  _ here _ we go! Again with the slutshaming!” Heather sneered. “I’ll have you know I can like anyone who I want, mother. I just so happened to fall for someone who wasn’t some perfect little Catholic boy who I’d end up being trapped in an unhappy marriage with.”

Her mother’s eyes flashed with hurt for a split second. “You could have been  _ happy, _ Heather,” she murmured, her voice quiet and defeated. “Why can you never listen to us? You could have been our perfect little girl, you could have-”

“ _ Don’t fucking lie! _ ” she screamed, not caring if her voice reached the room next door. “You never wanted me! You never had plans for me! You never knew how to love me, not unless I turned into this family’s shadow! All your  _ love _ was conditional, it was fake, it…” She blinked out the tears that were welling up in her eyes. “I’m so tired, mom. I’m tired of having to constantly earn your love.”

“So you became a lesbian? What did you expect would happen?”

“One, I’m not a lesbian, I’m pansexual. Two, this. I knew all this would happen. I  _ wanted _ it to.”

“You wanted to humiliate yourself in front of your whole family?”

“No, I wanted to humiliate  _ you. _ ” She couldn’t stop herself from proudly smirking. “You’re right. I’ll never be your perfect little girl. I’ll never be like Monty, like Hazel, like any of them. You’ll never be able to be proud of me again, not that you ever were. But I do look forward to all those family talks about Hazel’s bachelor degree, about Monty’s GPA, about your siblings’ grandchildren, while you’re left with the failure of a child that’s me. You and father will have nothing to say, nothing to boast about, nothing to talk about. You  _ failed,  _ mom.” She leaned close to her, and though she had to look up at her, her cold glare was enough to get her to step backwards. “Now live with it.”

Her mother was stunned, a hundred emotions swirling in her gaze. Then, she masked them all with anger.

“You won’t get to  _ see _ any of those conversations,” she growled. “Either you drop this pathetic act right now, send your  _ friend _ home and go in there and apologise  _ profusely _ to everybody, or you’re out of here. For  _ good. _ ”

She clearly expected to win with that, not for Heather to just laugh.

“Oh, sorry, did you think I was  _ staying? _ ” Her lip curled deviously. “Oh, mother, even if you had been the most progressive woman on the planet in there, don’t think I want to live under the same roof as you ever again.”

Her mother blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not moving back in,” she told her. “I never was. But at least this way, you won’t have to come after me anymore.”

“You’re not- you  _ lied? _ ”

“Well, yes, but I also gave you a heads up.”

“ _ When? _ ”

“Mom, I literally sang,  _ ‘goodbye, everybody, I’ve got to go, gotta leave you all behind and face the truth,’ _ amongst other things, and you didn’t figure it out?”

“But- I-” she stammered, her poise crumbling. “Heather,” her voice suddenly softened. “You can’t just leave.”

“I can, and I will,” she shot back. “If you don’t want me to go, then you shouldn’t have driven me away.”

“We didn’t-”

“I’m not allowed to be  _ me _ when I’m with you,” she said, her voice pained. “I can’t keep acting like I can make you proud. I need to stop acting like I can, and I need to start waiting for the day you can  _ make _ yourself proud of  _ me. _ ” She stepped away, tearing her gaze from her. “Even though I know that day will never come.”

“It  _ can _ come, if you just-”

“No,” she snapped. “No, I won’t  _ just _ do anything. I don’t want to. I don’t want to earn your love. It’s fucking worthless to me, because it’s not actually for  _ me, _ is it? It’s for whoever you  _ wish _ I was.” She hugged Veronica’s arm close. “Have a nice rest of the evening. I’ll get out of your hair. For good, this time.” She turned to leave, sauntering towards the door of the living room, while her mother continued to talk.

“Heather.  _ Heather, _ ” she called. “Heather, please, stop making this difficult.” She got no response. “ _ Heather! _ ”

As many complicated emotions Heather was feeling right now, it didn’t stop her from feeling unbelievably satisfied that in what should be their last argument, she got the final word.

She  _ never _ got the final word.

She and Veronica hurried upstairs until they couldn’t hear her mother’s voice anymore. She went back into her room and was about to grab her bag and leave, but she had to take a moment.

“God.” She groaned into her hands. “I’m never coming back here, am I?”

She looked around her room, one final time, the only place she had ever truly felt safe and comforted in this entire house. She would miss it. She’d miss it a lot.

“You have a place to go,” Veronica told her, cupping her face gently. “And you have us. You were right. You can stop pretending now. You can stop having to earn love.”

Heather’s hands brushed against Veronica’s wrists, and she smiled. “Yeah.”

“No need to look back?” She tilted her head. “Just moving forward.”

“Right. Once I’m out that door… it’s just forward from there.” She should be happier, she knew she should have been, but something was weighing her down. She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against Veronica’s and shared a quiet moment, one much needed, only for it to be interrupted moments later. Her head snapped towards the door.

“Mom, I’m not going to-”

“Heather?”

That wasn’t her mother’s voice on the other side of the door. It was a meek, timid one. Heather’s heart dropped.

“Cindy?” She hurried over to the door and opened it, finding a tearful, confused Cindy on the other side.

“Heather… what’s going on?” she asked, sniffling. “Why is auntie and uncle so mad at you?”

“Because… I…” Her throat ached. “Because I’m not who they want me to be.”

Cindy hesitantly looked at Veronica, then back at her.

“They said girls can’t like other girls,” she murmured. “That God doesn’t allow it. Is that true?”

Heather wasn’t sure what to tell her. Mainly because she was sure that if she still believed in a God, she would be asking that same question over and over again. She composed herself and kneeled down so that she was eye-level with her. She placed her hands on her shoulders.

"Cindy," she said in a serious tone, feeling the young girl's shoulders tense up. "Please, listen to me. You're still so young, I don't want to have to say any of this to you, but please, our family is broken. Their values are upside down, and there's a reason I've always been so rebellious. I had to be. I couldn't fit in, I was never going to fit in. They would never let me, and now I'm being dropped for it. Please, please understand this when you're older, okay?" She brought her in for a tight hug. "I love you. I love you and your brother and your cousins.” She ran her hand through her hair, hair so similar to her own. “I hate telling you all of this. And I know you might hate me right now.”

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to. Not right now.” Tears from her own eyes began to fall. “But I have to tell you this now, because I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? Where are you going?”

“Somewhere else. I can’t be in this family anymore.”

“But…” She stepped back to look at her pleadingly. “But I want you in this family. So does Parker! So does Iris! I’m sure Cooper does too.” She wiped her face with her sleeve. “You can’t go.”

“I have to go,” she said regretfully, wiping away more of her tears with her thumb. “I don’t want to leave you, but I can’t stay with my mom and dad.”

“But-”

“Just… please remember, Cindy. You’re like me,  _ so _ much like me, and it makes me scared. I’m scared you’ll get treated the same, but I’m not about to tell you to change. I’m here to tell you that you’re perfect just the way you are. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, not ever. All that’ll do will break you, like it did me. I don’t want you to go through what I have. I want you to hold your head up,” she tilted her chin up with her finger, “and stay proud. One day you’ll understand - I  _ hope _ you’ll understand - why I had to leave. Just believe me when I say… you’re the one thing I’m going to miss -  _ dearly. _ You and the other kids.”

Cindy nodded, keeping her head up, just like she said. Still, she didn’t stop crying. "Will I ever see you again?"

Heather grew solemn. "I don't know, Cindy." She thought for a moment, the thought of losing all contact with her making her want to break down, but instead, she stood up and hurried over to her vanity. In one of her draws was a pen and paper. She took out the slip and realised it already had writing on it - it was the list of triggers that Veronica had written for her months ago. It took up very little of the page, and so she ripped half of it off and wrote down Mac’s address as well as her landline. She then walked back over to Cindy, who was being comforted by Veronica, and handed it to her. She blinked at it, confused.

“Keep this safe,” she said. “Don’t take it out until you get home, until there’s no one around. Don’t show it to anyone. If they find it, they’ll take it from you, and then we really can never talk again. In fact…” She folded it up several times. “When you get home, put it somewhere safe, somewhere only you can find it, and don’t take it out until you’re old enough to hide things from your parents.”

She hesitantly took the note. "How old is that?"

"If you're anything like me? About fifteen." She winked at her, her smile bittersweet. Cindy sniffed sorrowfully.

“That’s so far away.”

“I know. But it’ll be worth it, yeah?”

Cindy nodded, putting the note in her pocket. It hurt, knowing that Heather would have to wait so long to find out if Cindy would grow up still loving her, or if their family would corrupt her and make her throw the note away herself, and until then, she would never be sure if she truly hated her. But she knew a ten year old couldn’t visit Mac’s house on her own, and she couldn’t use the phone without the risk of being caught. It would be best for her to wait.

Though, a scarier thought would be not knowing if the note got lost, got thrown away by her family, or if she discarded it herself. She could only hope for the best.

“I don’t want you to go,” she murmured. Heather sighed, hugging her again.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“Then don’t.”

“I can’t stay. You’ll understand one day.”

They held onto each other for a while, maybe a minute or two, before a voice began to yell from downstairs.

“Cindy? Cindy! Come get dessert!”

Cindy’s mother couldn’t find her talking to her, not unless she wanted Cindy to be yelled at. She broke off from the hug, despite Cindy not ready to let go yet.

“Go. Don’t tell them you spoke to me. Say you were using the bathroom.”

Cindy nodded again, trying her best to wipe away her tears.

“I love you,” she whimpered. Heather smiled, her lip quivering.

“I love you too. I love all of you. Make sure the kids know that.”

“I will.” Her mother called her name again, and she darted out of the room, but not before giving one last longing glance her way. Once she was out of sight, Heather crumbled, falling into Veronica’s arms and sobbing. She cried into her shoulder for a long time, keeping her trapped in that house for so much longer than she thought she’d be. But it was so much harder to let go than she thought it would be. She wanted to say she was just staying for Cindy, but part of her knew that it wasn’t entirely true. She wished it didn’t have to end like this, but she would never be happy if it didn’t end.

Soon she managed to pull herself together, wiping away her tears and building up her confident appearance once again. She shared a look with Veronica, saying nothing, just gave her a nod of confirmation. They both grabbed their things, Heather looking around her room to make sure there was nothing else she needed to come back for, and once that was done, they hurried out. She didn’t stop to wave goodbye to anyone, didn’t tell anyone she was going, she just left, picking up one last pair of shoes sitting by the front door and making her final escape. It was almost underwhelming, how no one came to chase after her, how no one was calling her name anymore. Was it too much to ask to be missed by your family?

They got in her car, and Heather took one last look at her house, looking alive for once. The lights were on and she could see silhouettes of her family in the window, laughing amongst themselves. She resented that she would never be a part of that, that she could never be a part of that. She finally managed to drag her eyes away and onto the road ahead, starting her car up and driving off, faster than the speed limit probably allowed.

“Where are we going?” Veronica asked. “Do you want to go back to my house? My parents won’t mind-”

“I don’t know,” she said dryly, rolling down the window. “Anywhere the wind takes me.”

And so that’s how she ended up at the cemetery. The one she had walked to with Veronica on the night they had gotten together. It was still as unkempt and eerie as always, meaning they were alone.

She got out of the car, not saying a word to Veronica, just expected her to follow her through the graveyard. She did so, finding her hand with her own and keeping it warm against the cold breeze. She found the wall she liked to sit on, but she didn’t sit. She couldn’t settle down yet. She let go of Veronica’s hand, drifting away from her for a moment, trying to figure out what she was feeling.

“Do you feel better now?” Veronica asked. “Your family won’t ever hurt you again. You did it. You’re free.”

Heather cradled herself.

“This is what I wanted,” she murmured, her breath white as it escaped her mouth. “At least… I thought it was.”

“Do you… do you regret it?”

“No,” she sighed. “But I… it’s stupid.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not stupid.” She heard Veronica’s footsteps grow closer, but she didn’t try and touch her. Heather considered keeping it in, but in the silence of the cemetery, she decided to let it all spill.

“It’s just… you’re right. That’s it. They’ll never hurt me again, they’ll never touch me again. My family will never accept me back, and that’s… that’s what I wanted. I never wanted to see my parents again.” She slowly turned around to face her, hunched over and shivering. “But… but I have this stupid fucking made-up scenario in my head. I’ve always known it would never happen, and yet I think about it almost every night, even if it’s just for a minute.”

Veronica’s gaze was soft, understanding. “What is it?”

“I… I think about my parents. Mainly my mother. I think about her, sitting down with me, actually coming to  _ me, _ and saying… ‘Heather, I’m sorry.’” Her lip curled into a snarl. “‘I’m sorry for all the shit we put you through, I’m sorry that I made you feel like you had to earn our love. I’m sorry I was such a shitty mother. I’m  _ sorry, _ Heather.’” She squeezed her eyes shut. “And it was never because I was fantasising about fixing our relationship, because every time, I wouldn’t tell her ‘I forgive you’, I wouldn’t hug her, I would turn to her and say,  _ fuck _ you, mom. Too little too late. I’ll never forgive you for what you did. You should have done this sooner.”

Veronica’s brows knitted. “But… didn’t you get to tell her that?”

“It’s not that.” Heather stared at the grass under her feet, kicking at a stone. “It’s that… it’s that part of me, whether I wanted to admit it or not, was hoping that despite everything, despite what she did, despite me leaving, me never forgiving her, me never wanting to be around her again… I wanted to know that she still loved me.” She felt like she wanted to cry, but she didn’t. She simply felt empty. Unloved. “I wanted to be loved unconditionally, that no matter how broken our relationship may be… I had a parent who loved me for  _ me, _ even if she never acted like it.” She looked up at Veronica, feeling pathetic. “I just wanted to know that was true, but now… now I’ll never know. I’ll never get that chance.” She sighed wistfully. “And though I knew it was probably never going to happen… I was still able to hope. Now what do I do?” She paced around slowly. “Just accept my parents don’t love me?”

A hand landed on her shoulder and she stopped, looking back at Veronica whose eyes were glistening under the moonlight.

“I love you,” she told her earnestly. “I love you unconditionally. I’m sorry your parents probably don’t feel the same… but that just makes it better that they’re not in your life anymore.”

Heather turned her body around and Veronica’s arms wrapped around her neck loosely.

“It does,” she murmured. “I have one less thing to worry about.” Her hands found Veronica’s hips, and the two of them absentmindedly swayed and moved to the sound of the wind blowing through the trees.

“And you came out - that’s an incredible thing to do,” Veronica added, resting her forehead against hers. Heather huffed.

“Them being awful made it a lot easier. I had very little to lose.”

Veronica’s gaze grew cloudy for a moment. “You worded that really well.”

“Hm?”

“I mean, not to make this about me, but I could never do what you did today,” she said dolefully. “Because I love my parents, and I already have a good relationship with them. And I want to tell them, I really do, but… I’m just so scared I’ll lose what I have.”

Heather gave her a sympathetic look, pressing a kiss on her nose. “Do what you need to do.”

“I will.” Veronica gazed into her eyes, deeper than so many managed to swim through. “You’re very brave, Heather.”

Heather’s lips began to lift up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She then looked away, batting her lashes in a flattered manner. “And what you said was really sweet.”

“What did I say?”

“All those things you said at dinner. About what you knew about me. You remembered all of that about me?”

Heather bit the inside of her cheek, looking away bashfully.

“You’re not special, I do it with Heather and Heather too.”

Veronica laughed that stupid laugh of hers that Heather couldn’t resist kissing her to shut her up. They kissed again and again, neither of them wanting to stop or separate. Eventually, though, the chill of the night became too much for Heather’s exposed arms.

“Okay, I’m really fucking cold,” she muttered, her teeth chattering. Veronica rolled her eyes, taking off her blazer and putting it around her.

“Some things never change,” Veronica sighed fondly, kissing her close cheek. “Do you wanna go? We don’t have to go home yet. We can go to 7/11 and grab a snack.”

“I’m actually feeling Snappy Snack Shack.”

“They’re literally just the same store, except one of them sells cheap, off-brand shit.”

“Sometimes off-brand is better.” She grinned. “And hey, I may have 300K, but I don’t want to throw it all down the drain quite yet.”

“You’re literally richer than I’ll ever be,” Veronica said. “That’s  _ such _ an excess of money too. Why did they give you so much?”

“They’re rich. They had money to throw on their daughter in hopes she could afford to go to a fancy college when she finally grows up.” She shrugged, wrapping the blazer around her. It smelled of lavender. “I’m not complaining.”

“Me neither.” Veronica smiled. “So, Snappy Snack Shack?”

“Of course.” She took hold of her hand. “And then after that… could I go home with you?”

Veronica smiled.

“Of course you can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heather really said you get what you pay for 😌✌
> 
> OH YEAH ALMOST FORGOT @ my older fans who may be interested (minors look away please) me and my gf are writing a book together!! completely unrelated to heathers but if you wanna follow my work there then here's the the blog: https://sonyx-the-power-pairing.tumblr.com/
> 
> just be warned there is NSFW content on there (but all of it is tagged and i've been placing it under cuts)
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/heathersgameoftag

**Author's Note:**

> heather chandler: working on my self worth guys..... no one can define my worth 😌✨  
> 300K: consider-  
> heather chandler: ✌😳 sorry guys i can now be bought
> 
> https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/


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